


On Rings and Kings and Fancy House Mottos

by Impractical_Dreamer



Series: The Alliance of the Four [1]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, alternate universe - Disney and Dreamworks movies in the same world, house mottos, house sigils
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-09 12:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12888168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impractical_Dreamer/pseuds/Impractical_Dreamer
Summary: He could not believe it at first—Princess Astrid—thePrincess Astrid of House Hofferson, the Fearless, the Jewel of the Rainlands, Beloved of the war god Tyr—and basically the most known shieldmaiden in the entire Barbaric Archipelago—was offering her hand in marriage—but only to the nobleman who can defeat her. [Royalty!AU with a touch of GOT influence. Hiccstrid.]





	1. Act One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
> Heads up: The only influence that GOT would have on the fic are the house sigils, mottos and fancy titles. I must confess that I don't do heavy drama and angst, so there won't be death, gore and mature scenes. Sorry about that.  
>    
>  **Unbeta'd.**

* * *

He swore that a goddess had decided to enter the battlefield.

Her body was toned yet slender, her movements brutal yet graceful. Even when she was on a horse in the middle of a battlefield, swinging her double headed axe at the nearest gronckle, her posture was impeccable. Her hair was a crown of spun gold on her head, its tresses woven into a braid that draped over her armored shoulders. Her round face, even when scrunched up in concentration, looked exquisite under the glow of the fire around them. The explosions around covered her in an ethereal glow that made her look so... _divine_... like a Valkyrie descending upon Midgard, and he couldn't help himself as his jaw dropped when he looked at her. And her eyes—her _eyes_!—they were the most beautiful shade of sapphire blue that took his breath away.

It took a couple of moments for him to realize that those blue, blue, _blue_ eyes were now actually looking directly at _him_.

.

.

.

She screamed something as she charged at him, but in the midst of all the running Vikings and unidentified flying weapons, he couldn't hear what she was saying for the life of him. Confused beyond words, fear gripped his chest and paralyzed his body as she swung her axe in his direction. But the blow never came. It took another moment for him to realize that she was aiming at a zippleback that was right behind him. She stared coldly down at him then, her blue, blue, _blue_ eyes piercing his own as she urged her steed to face him.

.

.

.

.

.

"Is this some kind of a joke to you?"

" _Uh_ —"

"Our parents' war is about to become ours. Figure out which side you're on."

.

.

.

.

.

"But—What if there doesn't need to be a war?"

.

.

.

.

.

" _What_?"

.

.

.

"What if... What if we can live alongside dragons?"

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

**ON RINGS AND KINGS AND FANCY HOUSE MOTTOS**  
A C T O N E

* * *

Hiccup never expected to see those piercing blue, blue, blue eyes again after ten years.

At least not like this, when he was still in his uncomfortable travel clothes that looked like disheveled sacks on his tall yet lean frame, and when he was about to steal those freshly picked berries that he found in the Hoffersons' castle's kitchen to assuage his hunger.

He supposed he looked like a foreign servant about to steal his new master's food. And he imagined she thought of the same as well.

"Are you not going to going to escort me?" she snapped, lifting her chin and crossing her arms as she tried to stare him down.

Hiccup didn't think she'd grow even more beautiful through the years, but by Odin, she did. Her hair was the same golden blonde silk, only smoother and sleeker, carefully braided and intricately arranged, with bangs and tresses of it framing her round face. Her robes, of fine teal velvet and gilded fringes, hugged her slender, more developed body in all the right places and matched well with her sapphire-encrusted kranssen. A fur cape hung on her shoulders, attached to her robes with a clasp showing the Hofferson sigil of a golden silhouette of a valkyrie raising an axe. Her plump, pink lips, however, was formed in a straight line, and her piercing blue—

"Are you not from Berk?" she snapped again, knocking Hiccup out of his reverie.

" _Uh_ , yes," he finally said, dropping the berries that he was about to eat.

"And weren't those new dragons in our pens gifts from the King of Berk?"

"Well, yes—"

"—so will you not show me the dragons, then? Didn't he assign anyone to present the dragons to me? Are you not part of the King's company? "

Well, he _is_ the King of Berk. He opened his mouth to speak, intent on telling her that. "I am th—"

"—come and serve me, then," she cut him off with finality, turning on her heels to exit the kitchen.

Hiccup sighed at the one-sided conversation. It's as if he was suddenly fifteen again, trying to convince his father of the possibility of living with dragons. At least his father eventually listened to him before his untimely demise at the hands of Drago Bludvist during the Stand of Berk. He hurried on to catch up with her as fast as his metal foot can carry him, but not before stealing some of those berries and shoving them down his throat. He supposed she wouldn't believe him anyway, not with the _un_ -kingly state that he was in.

He followed her diligently through the maze of corridors, keeping a good two-foot distance from her. He was sure she'd notice his missing leg earlier. She had given him a quick look back to make sure that he was following. If she was uncomfortable with it, she didn't let it show at all.

He couldn't believe his luck.

Three months ago, he had received an invitation from the Kingdom of Reiynor bearing the seal of the Ruling Family, the Hoffersons. It was an invitation to compete for the Princess' hand in marriage, seeing as she had now come of marrying age. He could not believe it at first—Princess Astrid— _the_ Princess Astrid of House Hofferson, the Fearless, the Jewel of the Rainlands, Beloved of the war god Tyr—and basically the most known shieldmaiden in the entire Barbaric Archipelago—was offering her hand in marriage—but only to the nobleman who can defeat her.

Hiccup almost swore then.

He was not entirely confident in his skills as a warrior, even until now that he had grown so much taller—even now with his experience of participating in at least two major wars, excluding the Dragon Wars, his battle with the Red Death and the Stand of Berk. The Hoffersons were known to be the most skilled warriors in the Wilderwest, undefeated in battle and gifted in strategy. He doubted his lean physique could overcome the Princess's skills in a duel. He had seen her fight before, and even then at such the young age of thirteen, she could ride a horse, swing an axe and charge in battle. He was fifteen at that time, and he couldn't even lift a hammer, swing an axe, or throw a pair of bolas. He'd be down even before the Princess could give him a death glare.

But this was an opportunity that he couldn't pass.

He had planned to court her, even prior the invitation. He's had nothing but admiration for her ever since the day they'd met, although he supposed now that it was actually only him who had remembered her from ten years previously; the Princess didn't even recognize him now and mistook him for a servant! But he had vowed before that should his plan of solving the Dragon Wars be successful, he'd ask for her hand in marriage... eventually. It was only until after the War of the Seasons that he had finally decided that he should now seek out her hand, and thankfully, an opportunity had presented itself.

And he wasn't going to let it slip through his fingers.

"I must confess that our Kingdom has not fully accepted dragons yet," Princess Astrid murmured as they got out of the castle and proceeded to walk towards the dragon pens. "Other than keeping a few terrible terrors for communication purposes, our House has refused to adopt any other dragon. Only the army and the navy are allowed to have them, but only so that we can keep up with the widespread domestication of dragons in the Barbaric Archipelago."

"So I've heard," Hiccup answered her, catching up to walk by her side as they approached the stables. There were still a lot of horses in their pens, which was truthfully a surprise to him; everywhere else in the Archipelago, dragons had already replaced horses as the means of transportation. After all, the Dragon Wars were over for ten years now. "May I inquire as to why that is, your Royal Highness?"

The Princess gave him a careful glance, surveying him. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt much if it's you. Everyone already knows it anyway, unless you've been living under a rock. But should the King of Berk be unaware of this, I must command that you never speak of it to him."

Hiccup gave her a sheepish look. It was her who was sharing it to him, so he couldn't technically tell himself about it. And… he had no idea what had happened with her House to make them dislike dragons so much.

"My uncle, Prince Finn Hofferson, owned the title of 'the Fearless' before I did," the Princess started. "A Flightmare attacked the Kingdom when I was nine. I was so small then, and my Uncle urged me to stay back as he encountered the beast. He froze on the spot as he faced the dragon, though, and everyone else was led to believe that he froze out of fear. That didn't sit well with our House."

_Nothing less than perfection._

That was the motto of House Hofferson, and freezing in fear during battle would surely tarnish their family name, most especially when they were reputed to be the most skilled warriors in the Archipelago—the epitome of perfect warriors.

"Our family was shamed, then, our honor questioned. My uncle had exiled himself to bring back the family honor, but the people never forgot about it. That was why I planned to right it. I aimed to be the very first in dragon fighting class, to be the best warrior that I can. I wanted to bring back the family name, but most importantly, I wanted to bring my favorite uncle back. By the time I ended dragon training, I was able to kill my first dragon: a Flightmare, the same one that paralyzed my Uncle years before. That was when I earned my first title, 'the Fearless,' and our honor was restored then. My Uncle, however, never came back. He died with a broken heart while in exile. Of course, it was only until five years ago, when the Dragon Master wrote the Dragon Book, that we knew that our Uncle did not in fact freeze from fear, but from a paralyzing spray from the Flightmare. That further restored our honor, but the damage has been done. My Uncle had died for nothing, and that was when my family had decided that we were to discourage ourselves from associating with dragons, if it can be helped."

"My condolences for your late Uncle, Princess," Hiccup murmured, solemn. He knew that the Royal Family had issues with dragons (which was one of the reasons why he brought dragons as his gifts in the first place), but he didn't think it was that personal. Helping them live alongside dragons would be harder than he thought. "But please, I believe that you should not fault the dragon for its natural reaction to threat. It felt imperiled and its spray was its defense mechanism."

"So I've read," the Princess replied lifting her chin up. "But it attacked us first!"

"Only because it needed to," Hiccup retorted, trying to level his voice as evenly as he could. "During those times, their Queen commanded them to bring food for her, and when they didn't, they get eaten themselves."

"So I suppose I should thank the Dragon Master for defeating the Queen then," the Princess answered, a touch of bitterness and a hint of mockery in her voice. "Is that what you're saying? I should thank him for the Dragon Book, too, I daresay. Thank you, O great King of Berk and Master of Dragons, for having slain the Red Death, made up your books and introduced the dragon way of living—but it's already years too late!"

"The King does not need anyone's gratitude," Hiccup almost hissed. "He barely even made half the book; it was Lord Ingerman who religiously compiled all of the knowledge that Berk had when it came to dragons. It even says so on the preface! And the King didn't think of honor and bravery when he foolishly sought the Red Death; he only thought of survival, of saving his people who were stranded at Helheim's Gate. He didn't care about anyone's gratitude. He only cared for everyone's safety."

The Princess paused in her tracks and looked at him. "How could you be so certain of how he feels? Are you his confidante? You ought to respect him more. Tell me your name, commoner, and I shall see to it that the King of Berk knows of your thoughts."

Hiccup repressed the urge to roll his eyes or sass her back. _I am him_.

And he certainly didn't think he'd need more respect. His titles have now grown exceptionally long and ridiculously absurd that had they been compiled, he was certain that the compilation would be longer than the journey from Berk to Reiynor. He tried to give her a hint of his identity anyway. "My name's Hiccup."

She laughed heartily at that, her anger evaporating and her cold mask slipping for once. "What kind of a name is 'Hiccup'? Do your parents hate you that much?"

"Not anymore," Hiccup found himself answering before he could filter it, distracted by the sound of her melodious laughter.

"Oh, forgive me," the Princess murmured, daintily covering her mouth with the back of her hand. She was rather graceful and refined for a warrior princess, Hiccup noted. But he also noticed her lack of knowledge with the Royal Families of the Archipelago. Did she really not know that the King of Berk was also named Hiccup?

"It's all right. My parents thought it would frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that," he explained as they neared the dragons. He tried to change the topic, not wanting to talk more about himself. "If I may inquire, your Royal Highness, but why are you suddenly interested in dragons? Did your family not disconnect yourselves from them? And yet you looked for Berkian guides the moment you realized that you had been given dragons."

She immediately looked contemplative at that question, and Hiccup missed the sound of her laughter. "I did say that my family had decided that we were to discourage ourselves from associating with dragons, if it can be helped. But it can no longer be helped."

They were in front of the dragon pens now, and Hiccup watched her as she stopped in front of a deadly nadder, her pensive gaze focused on the dragon before them. "The rest of the Archipelago has now embraced dragons in their everyday lives. Although we pride ourselves as the best warriors in the Wilderwest, a dragon rider and his dragon would surely be disadvantageous to us in battle. I have no doubt that we can take down other Vikings and dragons on their own, but both of them together is an untested prospect I'd rather not face."

He nodded his head, pondering on her thoughts. There were no official international wars that had happened in the Barbaric Archipelago ever since the stop of the Dragon Wars so far, but it was true that skirmishes had now become more _explosive_ , what with the involvement of dragons and all. "Berk will make sure to station a group of dragon riders in your capital to help you ease the transition to living with dragons, your Royal Highness. I hear that the Drizzling Mountains of Reiynor have an interesting assortment of dragons, and if you'd give us permission, we'll try to see if we can bond with them. I hope the dragons there would be nothing too dangerous, though." Hiccup left out the part that his friends were now in the Drizzling Mountains for research (have been in there since they arrived in Reiynor), even without the Hoffersons' permission since he supposed that it was on a need-to-know basis and Princess Astrid Does Not Need to Know.

"Thank you for the gracious offer," the Princess muttered, her gaze now turned to him. "But I doubt that the Kingdom of Berk would be so willing to aid us in our aim to live alongside dragons. We have no political ties to the Kingdom, unless the King somehow defeats me in the Ceremony later, and even that is an unguaranteed possibility. Besides, the Kingdoms of Berk and Reiynor have never been on the best of terms."

Hiccup had to agree with that. There had always been a silent rivalry between their Houses. His father, King Stoick, was a proud Viking who was named as the best warrior of the North, and he supposed that King Yngvild, who was hailed as the best fighter in the entire Barbaric Archipelago would not want to yield to that. Indeed, during Meetings of the Royal Houses, they would bring only their best warriors (which was why Hiccup never had to go along with his father during meetings—only _once_ — and he was immensely grateful for that), showing off what they could do in a _friendly_ battle (—if coming home in a stretcher with scars, bruises and broken bones all over was considered friendly, then he supposed that they were the best of friends—) before the meetings started.

"The new King of Berk is different from his father, although I am sure that he looked up to the late King just the same. The new King is of a pacifist nature like the Queen Dowager, and I can assure you that House rivalries and political ties are of little value for him. If you need his aid, he will come whether you are foe or friend," Hiccup declared with conviction, meeting her blue, blue, _blue_ eyes. "Whether or not he is to marry you after today, please know that you have a friend in the King."

The Princess regarded him, curious but hesitant, fascinated but _guarded_. "I must admit that I know so little of the new King of Berk. I've never met him before. I was not allowed to attend his coronation due to the length of the voyage and he is usually always away during meetings, even when he was the Crown Prince. I was even surprised when he had accepted the invitation."

Hiccup realized that he had never attended a Royal Meeting since his coronation as the King of Berk, which must explain why the Princess did not know him. Now that he thought about it, he didn't think that there were much opportunities for them to meet: they were on opposite ends of the Barbaric Archipelago with him from the North and her from the South; he was almost never there during Royal Meetings since he was not allowed to join by his father, and after the Dragon Wars, there was not much to talk about between Royal Houses so the meetings became less recurring. In addition, her interaction with other Houses were limited, given the restrictions of courtesy and polite etiquette imposed by her House.

House Hofferson always was a paradox for Viking families: they were the best warriors, and yet they were the most restricted as well, with rules and traditions for everything. Case in point: the Courting Ceremony in which a daughter of the Royal House should duel all of her suitors before the King can choose which one of them should marry into the Royal Family. Although fighting for the hand of a princess was not unheard of (see: Crown Princess Merida of House DunBroch, Mender of Bonds and Thief of Blueberry Muffins), House Hofferson was perhaps the most regulated and the most brutal. Men, even those of nobility and royalty, would have a hard time being granted an audience with the Princess.

He supposed his meeting with Princess Astrid ten years ago was willed by the Norns after all.

"He's all right, I think," Hiccup murmured, avoiding her gaze now. He unconsciously grasped the ring dangling from his neck, hidden beneath his travelling clothes.

"I'll be the judge of his character when I meet him."

The deadly nadder before them grunted, curious as to why they were immobile in front of it. Hiccup faced the nadder and immediately patted her. "My apologies for ignoring you, girl. There, there," he cooed, scratching the dragon's scaly blue back and the dragon immediately succumbed to his scratching. He felt the Princess stiffen at the interaction.

Hiccup shot her a small smile. "Want to try petting her?"

"I— _What_?" she stuttered, her posture still firm and rigid, and her eyes giving away her discomfort.

"Or don't tell me that the great Princess Astrid of House Hofferson, the Fearless, is actually afraid—"

"—I'll do it!" she snapped, lifting her chin up and advancing in on Hiccup and the dragon. She stiffened again, though, when she was only just a few inches away from them.

"Don't be afraid—"

"—I'm not," she insisted.

"Then don't just stand there. Here, give me your hand," Hiccup lifted his left hand to her direction, inviting her. She blinked at the offered hand, uncertain, but her small fingers eventually closed around his bigger ones. He noted that unlike the rest of her which looked smooth and _pristine_ , her hand felt rough and calloused. He knew right then and there that she was a warrior through and through.

He guided her hand near the dragon's nostrils, and her fingers trembled slightly when they touched the cold scales. "You have to let them smell you when you bond. Dragons have a good sense of smell. Deadly nadders, in particular, have a very remarkable sense of smell and can identify you by your scent alone. It'll help you reconnect when you see her again."

The nadder grunted slightly at the new scent, and the Princess shifted uneasily. She made a movement to go away, but Hiccup held her hand firmly, determined to let both human and dragon bond. "Easy, easy there." He changed the hand that was clutching the Princess's hand to his right, and with his newly freed left hand, he stepped behind the Princess and held her left shoulder to hold her in place.

"She's beautiful," she breathed as her eyes roamed the dragon. He couldn't agree with her more; the deadly nadder was considered as one of the most beautiful dragons, with its blue quartz-like scales that covered almost the entirety of its body and its topaz spikes that blended well with its overall color palette. Now that he thought about it, it sort of fit House Hofferson's house colors of blue and gold.

She smelled like cinnamon and parchment.

He wondered if the Princess could hear his heartbeat. It was palpitating so erratically in his ribcage that he thought it would burst forth from his body soon. He thought that the moment was short, but he felt that this sweet torment was forever when she was this near to him, her body nearly flush against his it was almost intimate.

The dragon finally closed her eyes and submitted itself to them, bowing slightly. The Princess looked up at him and gave him a smile, surprised at the dragon's action. Hiccup immediately stepped away and released his hold on her, startled at the close proximity of their faces. He felt a blush creep up his neck.

"Yes, well," he mumbled distractedly, going around the dragon and ignoring her questioning face. He proceeded to scratch the nadder's scales behind her head, determined to look at anywhere but her. "Now that the nadder is comfortable with you, I think you can now pet her properly. Dragons like to be pet and scratched like any other house pet. They usually like it behind their ears, just at their back, and almost anywhere else except for their bellies. Different dragons have different preferences for that; some may melt in your hands while others may cost you your limbs. Always proceed with caution when rubbing their bellies. Oh! And if you just scratch them with just the right amount beneath their neck, you won't believe this, they—"

He stopped abruptly, noticing that the Princess was a bit too quiet. He raised his head to meet her eyes. She was gently stroking the nadder's beak, but her attention was focused on him, her blue eyes thoughtfully studying him.

"Is something the matter, your Royal Highness?" Hiccup asked, raising a brow.

That seemed to break her out of her trance, and she answered hurriedly, "No, no, it's nothing. It's just… you… you remind me of someone."

Hiccup stiffened, his hand reaching again instinctively for the ring dangling from a chain on his neck. Perhaps she had remembered?

She shook her head, half scoffing and half smiling at herself. "No, he can't be you, he was too scrawny."

A smile almost ghosted Hiccup's lips, and he wondered if he should tell her then about him. After a few seconds of contemplation, he decided that perhaps this was not the time… yet. He hasn't rehearsed his lines although he had already composed them, and he was not sure that the Princess trusted him enough to believe him. He gave her an amused smirk, nevertheless, and they continued discussing about dragons, which included their sleeping habits, species peculiarities, and grooming responsibilities.

"You know…" he began the talk awkwardly after a while, scratching the back of his neck. "Your Courting Ceremony reminds me of this one time Crown Princess Merida was to be betrothed to one of her House's allies."

"Crown Princess Merida?"

"Of House DunBroch of the Kingdom of DunBroch," he supplied, forgetting for a moment that she wasn't so good at names. "It's part of the Crownlands on the continental mainland."

"Oh," the Princess murmured thoughtfully. "House DunBroch, with the sigil of a green sword with interwoven rings against a black field, and with the motto of 'Change the fate torn by pride.'"

"That's the one," Hiccup affirmed, squatting in the pen while gently caressing the deadly nadder who was now asleep. The Princess followed suit, propping herself against the dragon to face him. "When she was sixteen, an archery competition was held for her hand in marriage. Their allied House Heads and their first-born sons arrived in their castle to compete in the Highland games. But get this, Crown Princess Merida twists the rules, announcing that as her own clan's firstborn she is eligible to compete for her own hand—can you believe that? Then she easily bested her suitors in the archery contest, and then bam! She got away with her arranged marriage!" Hiccup laughed then, remembering Merida's accent as she recalled the courtship.

To his surprise, the Princess did not look amused. "And you are certain of this? Are all royalty and nobility in the Continent your friends?"

Hiccup almost slapped himself. " _Uh_ —the King of Berk had a lot of adventures when he was the Crown Prince, and well, he loved telling his stories to the rest of Berk, apparently," he explained. It wasn't a lie. He just didn't understand why he felt like he should use the third person when he spoke about himself.

Princess Astrid looked pensive for a while. "It must be nice," she murmured quietly, staring into space. That was rather unlike her to be frank. "To be able to go on adventures like that, to not be tied down to your duties at all. How does it feel like?"

Hiccup studied her. Was that _longing_ in her voice? "It feels liberating," he answered truthfully.

"I think it should," she mumbled in the same quiet voice, but she soon snapped out of her stupor and raised her chin, standing up from the ground. "But it's also irresponsible. And that would be unbecoming of a Hofferson." She faced him, conviction and something akin to disapproval etched on her face. "Crown Princess Merida should not have done that. A nation needs to strengthen its standing with an alliance, and marriage is the best way to cement such union."

Hiccup sighed and stood up as well to face her, not liking where this was going. He may have admired her for so long, but Merida was his friend as well, and he was willing to go lengths to defend her. He rivalled her disapproving gaze with his defiant one, staring her down and using his height to tower over her. "What would you have her do then? What would _you_ have done?"

"I would still have kicked all of their asses," she seethed coldly, lifting her chin up to meet him head on, and he reminded himself to stand his ground when he was distracted by those beautiful blue, blue, _blue_ eyes. "But I would have married someone. I care not who, for as long as they can protect my country and keep my people safe, then I would gladly marry my ass off to the highest bidder… Like what I'm going to do today."

Hiccup's glare softened, the weight of her words making him remember why he had liked her in the first place.

"A royal's duty first and foremost is to the people," she declared as if by rote, but commitment laced every word that came out of her mouth. "It does not matter what I think, how I feel. What matters right now is for our House to make the right decision in choosing the House that we are to be allied with. Whether it breaks my mind or my will, I will do my duty to my people. A Hofferson is nothing less than perfection in battle, in honor and in duty… even if it breaks my heart."

Hiccup can only stare at her.

Damn. He thought he'd lose his admiration for the Princess for a moment there, but she had managed to shove it back down his throat tenfold with her small speech.

"Forgive me for my impudence, your Royal Highness," he finally murmured, bowing his head. "My story has distressed you when I only wished for good humor." He saw her gaze soften for a bit, but no less cold. There was an awkward pause between them as they looked away from each other, and Hiccup sought to ease the tension in the air. "Then who among your suitors do you think would be best for your people, your Royal Highness?" he asked in honest curiosity, trying to change the subject.

She pondered on that for a moment, though her eyes still bore a slight annoyance for him. "From a political and military standpoint, I think it would be best if I marry the King of Berk."

Hiccup immediately widened his eyes at her response and managed to sputter out a "What? _Why _?!"__

____

"Power," she said simply.

"Oh." Hiccup fought to fight the disappointment in his voice.

There was a pause again, though Hiccup no longer wanted to ease the tension between them. To his surprise, it was the Princess who broke the ice first.

"You must know that there are threats to the Barbaric Archipelago." Her voice was softer now, but resolute. She moved to exit the pens, and she took in the warm breeze that greeted her outside. Hiccup followed suit. Her eyes roamed the expanse of her kingdom as they stood outside.

"Whispers grow of a shadow in the East. Trouble is brewing in the Shadowlands of the South. And the North talks of an unnamed magic beyond the Icelands."

Hiccup thought of the dangers she had mentioned. He had heard that a man bearing resemblance to Drago Bludvist was amassing powers in the East; he had escaped during the Stand of Berk and they had been investigating his whereabouts during the years that he went missing. Lord Pitchiner Kozmotis, the former Commander General of the Alliance of the Moon Kingdoms, had fled during the War of the Seasons as well, and although he was assured by Crown Prince Jack of Lunaris that he would not be back for a long while, Hiccup could not help but feel uneasy at letting him go. And then there was the mysterious rise of an ice wall just north of the kingdom of Arendelle.

"A great war is coming," Princess Astrid spoke the words that he had been thinking for a few months now. "And I don't think family loyalty and pride would save our kingdom from destruction, should Reiynor be involved. Our only hope now, is if I marry someone with political and military strength... And a union with the King of Berk, the Dragon Master, is the most beneficial alternative right now. At least for my people."

Hiccup didn't know what to answer to that.

"You said it yourself," the Princess continued, still gazing towards her kingdom. It was greener and more colorful in Reiynor, Hiccup supposed. And hotter as well. "When he faced the Red Death, he only thought of saving his people who were stranded at Helheim's Gate. He didn't care about anyone's gratitude, only for everyone's safety. Should I wed him, our Kingdoms would be allied, and no matter what, I think that the King of Berk would uphold House Haddock's motto should Reiynor be in danger."

_A King protects his own_.

If their Houses were to be unified and if Reiynor were to be attacked, Berk would come to their aid by virtue of their union, no questions asked.

Hiccup still kept silent, processing her words. He was flattered that the Princess would think so highly of him, though he would admit that he was rather sore that she did not want to marry him for the reasons that he'd like. Would she really want to marry someone whose name she did not even know?

The Princess breathed out, and Hiccup saw that she had lowered her lashes to the ground, brooding. "I've always wanted to serve my kingdom ever since I was young." Her voice was surprisingly soft and vulnerable, as if she was no longer the warrior Princess feared by her enemies. "If I had my way, I would've given up everything and offered myself to Freya, serving my country as both priestess and warrior, if that was even possible… But I was born a princess. And although I was allowed to be a warrior, I don't think I would be able to serve the Kingdom the way I want to serve it. I am called many things—princess, warrior, _beloved_ —but none of them describe what I truly am."

He could feel the pain in her voice as she professed her next words. "I am a _pawn_."

"Surely you do not think that—"

"—I am a pawn," she repeated, more resolute this time, though her vulnerability still shone through. "I am a doll to decorate my House. I am a prize to be claimed by the highest bidder. I am a pawn to further the alliance of my kingdom with the strongest in the Archipelago. I know that I am to enter a loveless marriage. I expect neither fondness nor affection from my future husband. I am—"

"—Listen here," Hiccup cut her off and grabbed her shoulders, rules and propriety and insolence be damned. He grabbed her chin to force her blue, blue, blue eyes to meet his green ones, and held her in place with his other hand. Her eyes looked as defiant and cold as the rest of her personality, but there was a hint of helplessness and desolation hidden underneath the vastness of her orbs. "I know not where your sentiments come from, or who had placed them in your head in the first place, but know that that is not how people look to you at all. You may see yourself as a pawn, an expendable piece to be discarded should your House call for it, but for your people—you are their _hope_ , Astrid."

He did not mean to forget her honorifics in their conversation, but her name had rolled off his tongue like honey and he no longer cared for the repercussions of his impertinence. Her face was so close to his now that he could practically just kiss her right there, but he willed himself to calm his turbulent heart.

"A great war is coming," he reminded her. "There is uncertainty to its extent, if it reaches the Archipelago or not. But we have to prepare. Fuck being a princess, fuck the houses and honestly—fuck marriage. But your people need you right now, and you have to do what you think is best for them, may it be being a bride or being a warrior. And whatever you choose, I know that you are doing it for the sake of your people who you so devotedly serve. I know not how you call such selflessness in Reiynor, but that is not a pawn in my books."

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, letting the words sink in. He had forgotten that he was a King, that she was a Princess, and that they were both together unescorted in a decidedly deserted part of the castle grounds. He waited with bated breath for her next move, but he could not for the life of him turn away from her eyes, and he felt that he became even more lost in them the longer he stared.

"A Hofferson is nothing less than perfection," she whispered, life and conviction and strength returning to her eyes. "In battle, in honor and in duty. I am a princess of House Hofferson, the Royal Family of the kingdom of Reiynor. I am a warrior for Odin and Freya and Tyr. And I will be the perfect bride for my people… But not before I kick all of my suitors' asses."

She grinned up at him then, her smile almost feral.

"That's the spirit," Hiccup laughed, returning her smile.

A horn sounded in the distance, and Hiccup immediately let go of her, as if scorched by their proximity.

"That's the signal for luncheon, and after that the ceremony," she announced, righting her posture and dusting off the hay that had stuck in her dress. She faced him, offering a rather reserved smile. "Thank you for all of your services, Master Hiccup. You have been a most entertaining guide."

"The pleasure is all mine, your Royal Highness," he said bowing to her.

"Call your King and assemble your Company. I'm looking forward to meeting your King later. I've not forgotten my promise that the King of Berk should know of your thoughts."

He chuckled as she gave a small curtsy and turned on her heel to leave for the Royal Hall.

"Princess Astrid!" he called one last time and she whipped her head, all braided honey-golden tresses gracefully moving with her. Hiccup's breath got caught in his throat. "For what it's worth, I think you are the most wonderful princess that a House could ever wish for."

He was surprised at the blush that dusted her fair cheeks at his words. She flashed him another smile—bright and genuine and _divine_. Hiccup might as well be fifteen again, watching her as she sat on her noble steed, charging against dragons. Then she was gone the next moment, even before he could catch his breath and pick his jaw up from the floor.

Hiccup swore that a goddess had just conquered his heart.

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* * *

**E N D O F A C T O N E**

* * *


	2. Act Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
> Warnings: curse words, slight violence, an innuendo, weird characterization, atrociously verbose writing
> 
> **Unbeta'd.**

* * *

She supposed that a dreamer had gotten lost in the battlefield.

Even from her vantage point atop her steed, she could tell that he was rather short and scrawny for someone his age. He donned no armor and he brought no weapons; his only protection was a green long-sleeved tunic beneath a brown fur coat, and she briefly wondered what a commoner like him was doing in the combat zone. His face was of an agreeable oval shape, liberally dusted with freckles and framed with a nest of messy yet soft auburn tresses and a set of eyes with a pigment not unlike the color of a vast forest after the onslaught of rain. But she had noticed that he had stood so alarmingly awkward amidst the fire and chaos that she had to swoop in and save his ass from a zippleback that was behind him.

They exchanged a few words and it was then that she realized that this was not a dreamer.

This was a _fool_.

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"You jest me, commoner. I fight in this battlefield to protect my people from the threat of dragons, and yet here you are, dreaming of the impossible. Helheim will freeze over before humans can live alongside dragons. Such time of peace and harmony can only be attained once one side loses and the other triumphs!"

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"Want to bet?"

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A heartbeat, then—

"This is not a time for such frivolities, commoner! People are dying right now as we speak, and the longer I stay here, the more I will not be able to save them. Know that I am willing to forfeit my life for anyone in danger against dragons, but I cannot help you with your fancies. Save your jokes for someone else willing to believe your outrageous vision."

"And what makes you think I am joking? I am risking my life the same way you are risking yours, perhaps even more. My vision may seem impossible, perhaps crazily and hopelessly so, but I am willing to forfeit my life as well for the sake of this hope. Why don't I prove to you the plausibility of living alongside dragons? My wager still stands."

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.

She supposed there was no harm in it, if only on the account of his life—

"I'm not usually so inclined to agree to a wager but I'll humor you to end this conversation. Before I marry, the entirety of the Wilderwest must have already embraced dragons by then. The Dragon Wars should have stopped and everyone, including those in Reiynor, should be able to live with dragons side by side. Should this not come to pass, I'll collect you as a betrothal gift and have you serve my husband for the rest of your life."

"And if it will, you'll have to—"

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Oh, what a _crazy_ fool this boy was.

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"—marry me."

* * *

**ON RINGS AND KINGS AND FANCY HOUSE MOTTOS**  
A C T T W O

* * *

"Presenting the Royal Family of Reiynor, House Hofferson!"

Astrid followed the rest of her family as they ascended the steps leading to the huge stage of the fighting pit, careful to look demure yet dignified, elegant yet imposing. _A princess must always maintain a regal gait_ , her mother had always said. It wasn't a time for princess lectures right now, but her mother's teachings had been fully ingrained in her psyche that her every movement might as well be a testament to the Queen's lessons. The crowd cheered at their arrival.

It was an hour past luncheon now, which meant that the ceremony was about to start. It was to be held in Reiynor's fighting pit, a colossus of an arena where her people gathered to witness chariot racing, jousting tourneys, and basically any other brawl that her people could think of. The people of the Kingdom of Reiynor were warriors by nature and it wasn't uncommon for them to organize fights that would prove themselves as skilled combatants.

The fighting pit was perfect for competitive combats: it was a circular stone structure with perimeter seating tiers that could accommodate at least a thousand spectators. Columns dotted along the edges of the arena bearing weapons of different natures, ranging from the usual crossbow to the exotic tessen. Right now, the seats were crowded with spectators from all over the Barbaric Archipelago, carrying flags and banners bearing the house colors and sigils of their ruling families, from the black and gray of the Berserkers to the red and gold of the Outcasts. Astrid thought that the pit was old and almost decrepit, but magnificent and nostalgic just the same; she had killed her very first dragon in this same arena.

As per tradition, the Royal family was to be presented first before the suitors from each kingdom. Astrid's father, King Yngvild, stood proudly before the cheering crowd as he was called out, all blonde hair and blue eyes reminiscent of her own physical characteristics. He was joined by Astrid's mother, Queen Ingrid, who was considered a great beauty with shining brown hair and sparkling dark eyes. Crown Prince Asmund, who was almost an exact copy of their father, followed them to his place in the lineup. Astrid almost rolled her eyes as he smirked when the announcer drawled out his absurdly long list of titles. Then came Astrid's other older brother, Prince Asger, who had inherited his mother's hair and eye color. And lastly, Astrid herself came up after them, curtsying before the crowds when she was introduced.

_To be a princess is to always look your best_ , her mother had always told her. Her family had opted to wear robes of their house colors today, nothing short of the finest gold trimmings and the loveliest azure fabrics. Fur capes adorned their frames, attached to their clothes by pins bearing the House crest. However, while everyone else in the family wore finery that would befit a royal ball, Astrid opted to wear her favorite armor of gold and steel ahead of time. After all, she would have to fight all of her suitors after the introductions were over.

Her mother had always mused that the Royal House of Hofferson was different from the rest of the Viking families. Where other Viking Royal Houses were rather boorish and almost unmanageable in both the battlefield and in meetings, their House preferred refinement in gatherings but wildness in combat. Not that the other Royal Houses didn't practice restraint or decorum, but their House takes it a step further with additional rules on etiquette and courtesy. An influence from the Southern mainland nations, her governess once explained. The women in their family, in particular, were expected to be physically capable of running across a scorched battlefield dressed in armor and blood in the morning, and show up in the Royal Hall in the evening wearing extravagant robes looking like the personification of regality and sunshine, as if no bloodshed had happened at all. They were both to be harbingers of death and deities of peace.

_Shoulders back, stomach in, chest out_. Instinctively, Astrid's body remembered her mother's instructions and sought to comply to every word. She lifted her chin as her gaze swept over the spectators that had occupied the fighting pit. _Stiffen the upper lip, arch the back_.

"Where were you earlier?" Asger whispered to her right as they waved at the crowd, all pleasant smiles and charming demeanor. "Father was looking for you."

"Taming dragons," she whispered back, almost proud at her accomplishment.

"Those gifts from Berk? Astrid, you know how our House feels about dragons!" he whined back at her, though a touch of mirth lightened up his remark. He always had been fascinated by dragons. "I'll let you go this time, but you have to show me how you did it. I've always wondered how the Berkians could train them. Did a Berkian assist you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," she answered him, clasping her hands together in front of her after waving at the crowd. She remembered Hiccup's awkward smile, those green eyes and that straight jawline—

She stopped herself before she could venture into dangerous territory.

"I can't believe they would. I mean, we've always been in a cold war with Berk," her brother mumbled. "Honestly, it came out as a surprise that the Berkian King accepted the invitation."

"That's what I thought as well. But his companion insists that the King bears no ill will."

Asger scoffed. "Tell that to Asmund. He's convinced that the King is up to no good. The King's got a funny name too, if I may add."

"Asmund's only vexed since the King of Berk's titles have now surpassed his own," Astrid shot back. It didn't occur to her until a second later that what she said was out of her character; she had always sided with her family. And yet she could not fathom the reason as to why she was compelled to defend the King of Berk. She supposed she was giving him the benefit of the doubt out of Hiccup's allegiance to him, but the oddness in her character did not escape her brother.

"Oho!" Asger exclaimed, amusement evident in his voice. "Is this admiration I hear, Astrid? Has the great Astrid Hofferson finally fallen in love? You didn't tell me you already met the King of Berk!"

"Don't be absurd, Asger," Astrid hissed. "The only _falling_ that will happen is the fall of my suitors. Once this whole courtship is over, I'll make sure they'll never recover from their injuries. I'll make them realize how much of a mistake it is to face me in battle. Besides, I haven't even met the King of Berk; it was his attendant who escorted me with the dragons."

She briefly wondered what Hiccup's position was. Was there a chance that he was not a retainer? Can he be of higher birth disguised as a servant? Had he been of a higher rank, would he dare court her regardless of the opposition from—

She really should stop this line of thinking. She needed to marry at least a prince for Thor's sake! Any connection with anyone of a lower rank would be detrimental to her Kingdom's position.

"That's the sister I know!" Asger beamed proudly. "I can't wait until you destroy them, Astrid!"

"Pay attention," their mother warned under her breath from the other side of the queue.

Astrid immediately fell silent. Asger, however, quipped one final line. "At least she's not as angry as when you lost her ring."

She stiffened at his remark. Another memory filled her head, one of fighting dragons, of a foolish dreamer and of a wager needing a conclusion—a conclusion which she now supposed would no longer be settled. She briefly wondered where the peasant was at the moment, if he had lived after that fight, or if he had settled with another girl from another tribe. The Dragon Wars had already ended for a couple of years, no thanks to the Dragon Master, and yet no stranger had presented himself to the Princess to collect her end of the wager.

It didn't matter now; it was for the best that no commoner sought for her hand in marriage. She reminded herself that she'd have to make an alliance with either a Prince or a King for the future of her people, and a promise of marriage to someone of lesser rank would not do.

The presenter cleared his throat and announced the rules of the Ceremony to the representatives of the Royal Houses from the Archipelago who were standing below the stage. "The rules are simple, your Majesties. The first to defeat Princess Astrid in a one-on-one battle will win her hand in marriage. In order to determine 'defeat,' one of the fighters should be knocked out, should be unable to fight any longer, or surrender. If no nobleman is able to defeat her, then King Yngvild shall decide who was the most capable warrior among you and choose one as her betrothed. Any weapon is allowed; if you so wish, you may obtain anything from the array of weapons displayed in the fighting pit. Lastly, just in case anyone tries, no killing is allowed. The Royal House of Hofferson insists that we maintain peace and cordiality in the Barbaric Archipelago."

Cheers erupted again from the spectators, and the representatives of the Royal Houses now began to move towards the stage. Astrid realized that they were about to introduce the Royal Houses now.

"Presenting King Dagur of the Royal House of Oswaldson of the Berserker Islands," the presenter announced, and the Berserkers in the crowd cheered loudly. "The Deranged, Cracker of Skulls, and Slayer of Beasts and the Champion of the Berserker Islands for this Ceremony's tournament. With him is Princess Heather of House Oswladson, the Unhinged."

A man with a golden crown on top of a mop of red hair approached them, offering a big grin that was perhaps a little bit too feral. He sported a set of three claw-like tattoos across one green eye, and a similar set was plastered across his right arm. His tunic was a mixture of leather and metal, and his chest plate bore the Oswaldson sigil of a black skrill against a grey background.

_A princess must be knowledgeable about her kingdom and the other nations _. Her mother's voice rang again, and Astrid remembered the motto of House Oswaldson. _When in doubt, take it out_.__

____

Behind King Dagur, his green-eyed, raven-haired sister gave a smile in her direction, which Astrid eagerly gave back. Princess Heather was a fellow shieldmaiden who she had met in one of the Royal House Meetings in the past, and she was happy to see a close friend during such a special occasion.

"Welcome to Reiynor, King Dagur," Astrid's father beamed as they shook hands. "Please accept my gratitude for the set of weaponry that you gave as gifts. My children have been very happy to use them."

"Glad to be of service, King Yngvild," King Dagur returned with much enthusiasm. He turned to the rest of the family members to give the same greeting, and stopped short as he came in front of Astrid.

"Thank you very much for indulging us your time in one of the most important events of my life, King Dagur," Astrid politely said as she curtsied. _Curtsy to every king and count and lord, her mother once said._

"Looking forward to the fight, eh, blondie?"

Astrid gave him her most confident smile. Oh, he was so going down. "More than you know, your Majesty."

"Does this mean we're going to be sisters-in-law?" Princess Heather piped up beside King Dagur, a teasing lilt lacing her voice.

_Speak and be clever, you must never be at a loss for words _. "While some dodge the famous flames of the Red Death to avoid being set on fire, I deflect your impish words to keep my armor unscathed."__

____

____

Astrid could almost feel the sting of a questioning glare from her brother beside her. King Dagur and Princess Heather, on the other hand, simply laughed, hinting that they had understood what she meant.

"We'll see about that, blondie," King Dagur smirked one last time before he and Princess Heather exited the stage to make way to the next set of Royal Houses.

"Introducing King Alvin of House Traison of the Outcast Islands, the Treacherous. With him is Lord Savage of House Traison, Champion of the Outcast Islands for this Ceremony's tournament."

A massive Viking with black hair underneath a horned crown and a scar on his right cheek approached King Yngvild and shook his hand. His black beard was enormous as well, almost covering the entirety of his upper body so that his spiked shoulder pads could barely peek through the mass of hair. Metal studs and spikes decorated his arm bands and he carried an air of unpleasantness in his gait. A man of lesser stature walked beside him, sporting dark brown hair that matched with his brown eyes. Both of them sported the Traison sigil of a red viking helmet on a field of gold on their belts. They exchanged a few polite remarks with her father, and proceeded with the rest of the Royal family.

"Thank you very much for indulging us your time in this event, King Alvin and Lord Savage," Astrid murmured politely, affording them the same courtesy she gave to the Berserkers. _Don't ever stray from protocol_ , her mother had said another time.

They merely bowed in response, the same disagreeable air going about them as they left to exit the stage. Astrid wanted to glare back at them as well, but polite etiquette dictated otherwise. She didn't trust them much, most especially when their motto was _Treachery is nobility when aimed against tyranny_. Rumor had it that they had slighted the late King Stoick of Berk before, but was forgiven eventually when they had befriended the Crown Prince of Berk (whose name somehow always escaped her). No matter; Lord Savage was going to go down later anyway.

"Presenting Queen Mala of House Highborn of Caldera Cay, the Unbreakable and Queen Defender of the Wing. With her is Lord Throk of House Ahlgren, Champion of Caldera Cay for this Ceremony's tournament."

Queen Mala came forth at the call of her name. She had very short blonde hair with bangs parted to the right, as well as pale green eyes that fit rather well with her black ensemble. Her robes were long with gold trimmings that also sported the House sigil of a golden eruptudon on the edges of her dark fabric. Lord Throk, who walked behind the Queen, had long red hair that was shaved in an undercut. He wore black armor with a color scheme similar to that of the Queen's, and he looked well-mannered and agreeable when they approached her father.

Astrid curtsied to them and they bowed back at her. As with the two other Houses before them, she thanked them for partaking in her Ceremony, and for the gifts that they had given her for her coming-of-age.

The introductions continued, from Crown Prince Thuggory of House Meathead to Lord Hlodvir of House Bearcub. She offered them all the same politeness she had given to the rest of the Royal families. _All through the day there's just one way you must behave_ , her mother had contemplated once. Of course, she afforded more than just cordiality to her closer comrades, and she could not help herself as she hugged Camicazi of House Bog-Burglars, her cousin and a fellow shieldmaiden.

"Go give them Helheim, Astrid!" Camicazi encouragingly laughed as she sauntered away after the formalities, and Astrid returned her enthusiasm with a big smile of her own.

Twenty-seven.

She had counted twenty-seven suitors so far, from noblemen of her own Kingdom to the Lords and Princes and Kings from all over the Barbaric Archipelago. She supposed it would not be much; she had faced almost a hundred warriors in an afternoon before (though that was more of a sparring session than a serious fight) and she had battled with dragons for three days straight when she was younger (though she did end up bedridden for a good part of the subsequent month afterwards). Only one suitor remained unintroduced, and this was the one that she was fascinated about the most.

"Introducing Queen Dowager Valka of House Haddock, the First Dragon Rider and Mother of Dragons."

A tall, crowned woman with a willowy frame similar to her mother's approached the King and bowed before him. She had auburn tresses arranged in three separate braids behind her back, and her green eyes, though genial and bright, was of a shade that was rather familiar to Astrid. She wore a red long sleeved tunic underneath a chest plate bearing the sigil of a dragon, and a fur collar completed her look. Although she stood and walked as regally as any Queen should, there was an atmosphere of something amiable about her, something nurturing and doting and _motherly_.

"My apologies for the tardiness of my son, your Majesty. I'm afraid he's had an errand to run for his friends who have been stranded for a short while in your mountains. But he shall be back soon," she explained apologetically.

Astrid stifled a sigh that almost escaped, hiding her slight disappointment. She was rather curious about the King of Berk. It had fascinated her that even though they were more or less of the same age, they were never given an opportunity to meet formally.

"That is understandable, your Majesty," King Yngvild replied just as cordially. "But may I ask, what business does the King's friends have in our mountains?"

Before Queen Dowager Valka could answer, a dragon's cry was heard from above, and Astrid raised her head towards the source of the sound. She could make out five dragons in the skies, encircling them: a gronckle, a hideous zippleback, a monstrous nightmare, a rumblehorn, as well as a—

"—Night fury!"

A jet-black dragon swiftly swooped towards the grounds of the fighting pit with the grace and agility of a predator, bearing with him who could only be the King of Berk. The four other dragons landed on either side of the night fury, only less as graceful. Talk about a fashionably late entrance.

A tall and lean masked man with a strong frame descended from the night fury. He wore a layer of fine leather underneath a cover of black armor plating spread over his shoulders and upper chest. House Haddock's sigil of a red dragon on a black field was decorated on one of the many clasps that adorned his armor. He made his way towards the stage after a fond petting of his dragon, and Astrid couldn't help but notice his rather unconventional gait brought about by that— _shit_.

It was a metal foot prosthesis.

Astrid froze. What were the odds that the King had only one foot as well? But the thought that the commoner earlier would also be the King was impossible. There was no way that—

"Wait 'til you hear his name," Asmund teased beside Asger who was so close to laughing.

"Presenting King Hiccup Horrendous of House Haddock, Third of his name, Lord Protector and King of the Berkian Isles, the Pride of Berk, the Dragon Conqueror, the Master of Dragons, Envoy to the Continental Mainland, Patron of the Seasons, Confidante of the Crownlands and Kith to the Alliance of the Moon Kingdoms… and the Champion of the Kingdom of Berk for today's Ceremony."

Astrid's jaw dropped. She could feel her heart cease momentarily as her head processed the information.

"What kind of a name is 'Hiccup'?!" Asger and Asmund silently snickered beside her. Astrid wanted to share their gaiety, she really did, but she could not tear her eyes away when Hiccup—nay, _King_ Hiccup—tore away his mask to confirm her fears.

_Hiccup was the King of Berk?_

"It is a great honor to meet you, King Yngvild," he murmured as he bowed to her father. Astrid stood frozen on the spot, unable to convince herself that this was indeed a dream. What would her mother's lessons tell her in a situation like this?

_A princess must always look her best. A princess must always maintain a regal gait. Stomach in, chest out_ —no, no, no! These words proved to be of no assistance to her plight— _shoulders back, stiffen the upper lip, arch the back. Speak and be clever, you must never be at a loss for words_ —nothing was helping at all!

"The honor is all mine, King Hiccup. It's great to finally meet such an esteemed albeit elusive person such as yourself," her father replied with much eagerness. "I've heard a great deal of your achievements and adventures, and I admire much of your accomplishments. I regret not having met you when you were younger."

A few more pleasantries were exchanged, and Astrid wished, for the first time in her life, that she would disappear entirely into nothingness in this very moment—or at least until the King would be gone and she could breathe again. Confusion and panic and a tiny touch of something akin to elation swam in her head, making her feel dizzy. She didn't know what to say, and she desperately wished that this vision of him would go away, that he would dissolve like a dream.

But alas, the King stayed as real as existence itself and, together with the Queen Dowager, proceeded to introduce themselves to the rest of the Royal family. Astrid steeled herself to look at something, _anything_ else in hopes of easing her panic.

_A princess must never be confused. Do keep a grip and don't ever crack. Never show dismay, never show a thing you feel inside. Do keep agrip and don't evercrack. Nevershowdismaynevershowathingyoufeel_ —

"Princess Astrid."

_Shit_.

She swore that a vision from Valhalla had presented itself to her as she lifted her chin to look at him. He was more handsome than she'd last remembered. His auburn mane was a tad more unkempt from his ride earlier and yet it still looked oddly endearing, framing his defined face that was littered with freckles. His emerald gaze was intense yet gentle, so mesmerizing and deep it reminded her of the color of a thick forest. And his jawline was so sharp and straight that it might as well have sliced through the heavens. Yes, that's what she'll call it, the Heaven Slicer.

He offered her a smile, unsure but honest, unassuming but so undeniably beguiling it almost melted her heart. _Almost_.

A wave of shock presented itself anew, paralyzing her for a moment and overwhelming her so much that her mother's lessons had flown out of her head. It took her several moments to realize that she had yet to answer him back.

"King Hiccup," she finally managed to croak out after a few moments of silence.

The shock was replaced then, just as fast as how it had overwhelmed her—

— _Thank you, O great King of Berk and Master of Dragons, for having slain the Red Death, made up your books and introduced the dragon way of living—but it's already years too late!_

_You ought to respect him more. Tell me your name, commoner, and I shall see to it that the King of Berk knows of your thoughts._

_I think it would be best if I marry the King of Berk._

_And a union with the King of Berk, the Dragon Master, is the most beneficial alternative right now._

Fuck—

—One moment she was immobilized with shock and in the next instant, a thousand emotions had taken over, creeping up her psyche at an alarming speed she was sure she would blow up any second now. A ripple of panic, a splash of disbelief, and a huge wave of shame and mortification coupled with an overpowering tide of misplaced anger and utter devastation stirred so vehemently in her chest it was sending her senses into overdrive—

And then she did the unimaginable.

She did something so out of her character as a princess, so out of this world, so _stupid_ , that she knew her mother, her governess and her etiquette teacher would conspire to tie her to a rock, send her off a carrier ship and plunge her into the depths of the Meridian of Misery to suffer continuously until the end of time. She knew that her reputation would eternally be ruined and that she will never recover from this until her death, but she could not help herself; she did the one thing that a warrior like her would do in this maddening position.

She _punched_ him. Hard.

Twice.

Fuck those eyes, fuck that smile and fuck the Heaven Slicer—her fists had automatically connected themselves to his chest without her express consent, a reflex triggered so suddenly she was unable to control it. The blow sent him a few steps back, and she internally commended his body for having stood against her hits. She could not bring herself to be remorseful about it, though, not even with the horrified gasps that drew forth due to her act of violence.

But the jabs were not enough to assuage her anger.

She grabbed his armor and with a strength she so rarely showed, flipped him unto his back.

"What was that for?!" he exclaimed in protest, green eyes going round with surprise.

"That's for the lies!" she seethed as she held him down. "And this—" she straddled him in one swift motion, and her fingers slid from his body to encompass his throat, strangling him "—this is for everything else."

Her mind could barely register the crowd roaring to life at the scene; she could distantly hear her mother's frantic chastisement and her brothers' encouraging cheers. There were several other noises, too, but her brain had muted her surroundings as she focused on the object of her torment: the King of Berk who was now struggling beneath her.

A pair of strong arms suddenly grabbed her shoulders and forcefully pried her away from King Hiccup's frame.

"Let me go, Asmund!" she cried and thrashed around as she realized that it was her brother who had held her back. "Let me at him! I'm going to kill that son of a half-troll, rat-eating munge bucket!"

"As much as I thoroughly enjoy your tantrums and your treatment of the King, Mother insists that I drag you as far away as possible before you bring further discredit to our family," her brother explained breathlessly, trying to haul her from the scene. Just as she was being dragged away by Asmund, her parents and the Queen Dowager had instantly encircled the King, checking on his injuries.

Astrid ignored him; anger and humiliation had now consumed her entire being and logic no longer made sense to her. All that matters now was that King Hiccup should get a piece of her mind.

She managed to twist her body away from her brother's grasp, and she quickly sprinted towards one end of the stage to grab her most trusted axe, intent on unleashing hell. She pushed her brothers away without much thought as she stalked towards her prey, and she deftly ignored her parents' protests at her recklessness. Her eyes zeroed in on her target, who was now surrounded by a small crowd.

The other dragon riders had come to the King's defense, who was still sitting on the ground, soothing the red marks on his neck. Together with the Queen Dowager, four men—a large and a thin blonde, a dark-haired and stocky lad and a tall muscular guy—and a blonde woman now formed a circle surrounding the King.

"Everybody scram," she warned, voice dripping with murderous intensity.

"Now, Princess, this is the King of Berk you are threatening," the muscular man warned coldly, stepping forward to shield his monarch. "And you'll have to go through us to get to him."

"I don't know what my cousin did to earn your wrath, and I know that he probably deserves what you did to him," the short, dark-haired guy added, confidently stepping forward as well, "but babe, you should totally—"

Astrid sent him flying behind her even before he could finish his sentence. She grabbed hold of the other man as well, and kicked him squarely in the stomach with a force so strong she knew he won't easily recover from it. She punched him for good measure, and sent him falling to the ground with a strong jab from the wrong end of her axe.

"I said," she breathed again, voice so sharp everyone could feel the edge against their throats, " _scram_."

All who were there, including the spectators in the fighting pit, held their breaths at the development. Before anyone can react, however, a beautiful jet-black dragon appeared out of nowhere, placing itself in between King Hiccup's company and Astrid. The dragon assumed an aggressive stance, limbs on high alert and razor teeth on display. Its magnificent green eyes turned to slits and it glared at her, threatening and ready to attack if necessary.

Astrid stood her ground and glared back, refusing to submit to the dragon's threat.

"Whoa, whoa, Toothless!" King Hiccup immediately stood up despite his discomfort and pushed through the crowd, positioning himself between the dragon and Astrid, trying to push the dragon away from her. Asmund and Asger instantly snapped to it as well, flanking either side of Astrid, all the while holding her back to try and prevent her from doing anything drastic. They tried to drag her frame away from the dragon, but she remained stubborn and unyielding.

"That's a night fury, you muttonhead!" Asger berated, trying to grab her restless arms.

"Fuck it, I don't care."

"What's he done to you to incur your wrath?"

"It's a misunderstanding," King Hiccup said, facing them while still trying to calm the dragon down, though the dragon was just as unmovable as Astrid. "Look, I should have told you earlier—"

"—You bet you should have," Astrid raged. "You lied to me!"

"I didn't lie, you _assumed_ ," he retorted calmly.

"And you let me continue on believing the wrong assumption! You should have told me about your position rather than let me believe you were a servant!"

"Oh, because my poor clothing would totally convince you that I was a King," he replied sarcastically.

"You still should have tried!"

"I tried to hint at it, but it wouldn't go through your head."

"And you have the audacity insult my intellect?" Astrid fumed and she raised her axe at an attempt to attack him. "I will castrate you!"

King Hiccup looked unfazed. "I've no qualms about it as long as you use your teeth."

"Why you son of a—"

"ASTRID MARIE HOFFERSON."

It was as if a bucket of ice had been thrown over her head, and a chill ran up her spine as she froze. King Yngvild of House Hofferson was not easily angered, but when he was angry, he was _livid_.

Damn, he had used her middle name.

The entire fighting pit had gone eerily quiet at the King's voice, waiting in palpable tension at what would happen next. Even the night fury had decompressed in its stance. Astrid slowly lowered her weapon as her brothers let her go, and she reluctantly turned around to face her father.

She felt like she had just been punched in the gut as her fury steadily subsided, and she became painfully aware of what she had done: she had punched the King of Berk, attempted to strangle him, and endeavored to murder and castrate him without much thought or warning, and without the provision of either a reasonable explanation or a chance of a trial… in front of the Royal family, in front of the Royal Houses of the Barbaric Archipelago, in front of the entire Kingdom of Reiynor, and essentially, in front of the entirety of the Wilderwest… on _her_ own Courting Ceremony.

She could feel the sting of being the center of attention; the disbelieving stares and the judgmental glares of everyone around her were enough to wash away the chaos in her being, stripping her of her anger and devastation and replacing them with humiliation and embarrassment. But none of them hurt as much as the icy glower from her father which bore something worse than shame and judgment. It was _disappointment_.

So much for being nothing less than perfection.

And yet she could not find it in herself to be remorseful about what she did. If given the chance, she would still have done it again, blast princess lessons and fancy house mottos.

"Princess Astrid has had a lapse in judgment and will retreat to one of the rooms in the fighting pit," her father announced as he stared her down. "She will remain there until the first fight starts."

Astrid lifted her chin despite the tears that were threatening to form in her eyes at the displeasure and condemnation in her father's voice, refusing to let the situation show any signs of weakness. She turned on her heel as soon as she had heard the dismissal, not bothering to give a curtsy to anyone. Glaring at everyone who was in her way, she gave one last glower at the King of Berk before she descended the stage. She was slightly taken aback at his look of concern—at—no, _for_ —her. She pretended not to notice it.

She ignored anyone who dared approach her, hurriedly making her way into one of the deserted rooms underneath the stage. She threw her axe as soon as she arrived in an empty room, and the weapon embedded itself into the wall with a loud thud. Taking the axe after the throw, she hacked into the panel a few more times and screamed, unleashing her wrath.

How could he? How could he _deceive_ her so?! Was it his intention to mislead her and pick apart the fragility of her nature? Did he enjoy quiet judgment at her situation, at her frailty, at her insecurities? Did he think of her now as an undesirable opportunist who married only for political advantage? A violent savage under the guise of a warrior princess? Surely his schadenfreude was unforgivable!

She was so angry at him, no doubt, but she was angry at herself as well. How could she allow herself to open up to him so, to share her most vulnerable thoughts?

"What was that all about?" her Mother demanded, bursting into the room after a few minutes. "I ought to tie you to a rock and have you plunged into the depths of the Meridian of Misery!"

"Yeah, I figured that out," Astrid replied, ignoring her and still lashing out on the poor wall. "I don't want to explain myself."

"Have you lost your mind?" her mother prodded again as she grabbed her arm so that they can see each other face to face. "Might I remind you that it was the King of Berk that you have offended?"

"I care not who he is!"

"A princess should never say such thoughtless things!"

"I'm really _not_ in the mood for princess lessons now, Mother," Astrid said angrily, attempting to destroy the wall again.

"Astrid," her mother seethed threateningly with an authority only a Queen could exude. Astrid finally dropped her weapon in indignation to face her. "Do you know how grave it was attacking the King of Berk? You _do_ know that he is currently the most powerful monarch in the entire Barbaric Archipelago."

"I know," Astrid replied rather resentfully.

"And do you know why he is the most powerful?"

Astrid took a deep breath to remember all the things that she knew about him. "He is the Dragon Master. He was one of the first to tame and ride a dragon, and he has extensive knowledge of almost every dragon species. In addition to that, not only is his dragon a night fury, one of the rarest and most powerful species of dragons, but it is the 'Alpha Dragon.' He was able to spread his knowledge of dragon taming in the Kingdom of Berk, which has made the Kingdom more powerful in terms of military strength. After defeating the Red Death that effectively ended the Dragon Wars, the other kingdoms in the Barbaric Archipelago sought to have his knowledge and skill in taming dragons; this have led to numerous peace treaties and alliances between these kingdoms and the Kingdom of Berk."

"Exactly," her mother validated. "He has formed an alliance with almost all of the kingdoms in the Archipelago, from Caldera Cay to the Meathead Islands. He has even befriended the Berserkers and the Outcasts, Astrid, and they were the most volatile Vikings in the entire Archipelago!"

Astrid bit her lip, mulling at the extent of the alliances. Offending him meant offending almost everyone in the Wilderwest.

"Apart from that, he has also allied himself with not one, but three great kingdoms from the Mainlands, Astrid. The _Mainlands_." Her mother could not emphasize the thought enough. "The kingdoms of Lunaris, Corona and DunBroch have signed a pact with the kingdom of Berk, promising each other trade and protection. And it does not help that the Kingdom of Lunaris is the capital of the Alliance of the Moon Kingdoms, so the treaty extends all the way from the Warren to the Island of the Sleepy Sands. Not to mention his trading agreements with the Eastern Continent; he has visited the Empire of Fransokyo twice, and has expressed his intent to visit the Island of Motunui soon."

Astrid's eyes slightly widened in equal parts disbelief and—she hated to admit it—admiration. The last part was new information for her. Had the King of Berk really amassed such power in a little bit over ten years? He used to be called the Useless when he was younger, she remembered now, which was rumored to be reason why King Stoick never brought him along during meetings. And yet now… he was the most powerful king in the Wilderwest.

She lowered her lashes to the ground, then, silently brooding on the information. It seemed that she had grossly underestimated the King of Berk, and she did not anticipate just how grave her outrage was. Not that she had already regretted what she did; she just wished that he was not someone so powerful and influential.

"If the Kingdom of Berk cries offense at what you have done, then at least half of the Continent might have declared war against us as well, from the Mainlands to the Wilderwest… But should you marry the King of Berk, then you would have half of the Continent supporting our Kingdom."

"Don't be absurd, Mother," she breathed. "The King of Berk will no longer want to marry me, not after what I've done."

"He has not withdrawn his intention to court you."

Astrid's head snapped up so suddenly she thought her neck would break. " _What_?"

"He intends to fight you in the arena later in hopes of winning your hand in marriage," her mother expounded. "I don't know what you did to him, but he seems to be besotted with you."

Astrid gaped at her. That didn't make any sense; why would the King be enamored with her? Surely half a day spent in the stables was not enough to form so strong an affection.

She sought to recover from her surprise. "I still refuse to surrender for the sake of an alliance. Mother, you should know that I will fight wholeheartedly against my suitors, regardless of how eligible the match or how valuable the prospect. I will not give a half-assed performance just so that I can marry the King of Berk."

"I'm not asking you to marry the King of Berk, although I would have to admit that that would be the best for our kingdom's position," her mother answered. "But I am asking you not to get in his Majesty's bad graces. Even if you cannot create an ally, then at least don't make an enemy. At least be civil with him. For our House."

Astrid looked unconvinced.

"If not for our House, then at least for our people. For the Kingdom of Reiynor."

Now that got Astrid's consideration. If there was one thing that she would be so willing to sacrifice everything for, then that would be her people.

"Our Kingdom lies on the southeasternmost tip of the Barbaric Archipelago," her mother pressed on, catching the deliberation in her daughter's features. "Though the threat in the North is far from us, there are still risks from the Shadowlands and the Eastern Isles. Should these nations decide to attack the Barbaric Archipelago, we get to be attacked first from a geographical standpoint. Our threats are enough as it is, Astrid. We cannot risk another prospect of war, most especially not from the Kingdom of Berk."

Astrid swallowed. "I understand," she finally murmured through gritted teeth. "I shall try to be as civil as possible with the Berkian King. But don't expect me to apologize, Mother. And don't expect me not to break bones later when I face him. I will only promise formality, not the inevitability of injury nor the possibility of an apology."

"In all honesty, I'm not expecting you to," her mother muttered exasperatedly. "Although I do wish that you were less stubborn and more diplomatic about this."

Before Astrid could reply, the door to the room burst open and Asger came in. "You're up, Astrid. The first fight's going to start now."

Astrid exhaled slowly, mentally preparing herself at what was to come. She secured her axe and removed her fur cape, and gave her mother a short embrace, then proceeded to follow her brother to the grounds of the fighting pit.

Whispers and murmurs erupted as soon she appeared in the arena. She could remember the disbelieving stares and the judgmental glares of everyone earlier, brought about by her violence. Shame swelled in her chest again, but she willed herself to lift her chin and enter the arena with as much grace and dignity that she could afford. She would not let such misfortune break her; she was so much stronger than that.

She saw that Lord Throk of Caldera Cay was her first opponent for the afternoon, but she searched for someone else as she proceeded to face him. Her eyes roamed the side of the arena where the Royal Houses stayed, and her sight finally landed on a mane of auburn hair amidst the crowd.

She locked eyes with him, then—blue with green, sapphire with emerald, _intensity_ with apprehensiveness.

The afternoon sun hit her skin like a blessing from the gods, and she committed to memory this fleeting moment—the rays of sunshine on her Kingdom, the excitement of the crowd at the commencement of the fight, the kiss of a breeze against her cheek, her death glare directed at the King of Berk, his startled expression at the harshness of her stare—and with a prayer to Odin, Freya and Tyr, she thus promised.

Astrid vowed that she will never let the King of Berk win against her. Not in this life, nor in the next.

* * *

**E N D O F A C T T W O**

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**OMAKE**

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"I can't believe they did such an atrocious thing!" Tuffnut exclaimed as he, Ruffnut and Fishlegs took their seats in the Berkian side of the fighting pit.

"Yeah, she almost totaled Hiccup and injured both Snotlout and Eret," Fishlegs nodded in agreement, still not over the fact that Princess Astrid had attacked Hiccup and had sent both Snotlout and Eret to the infirmary. Not that he expected anything less from the most known shieldmaiden in the Barbaric Archipelago.

"Yeah, I was worried for a moment there," Ruffnut added, but she looked confused. "But what are you talking about, Fishlegs?"

Fishlegs looked at them, now sporting the same confused look. "We are talking about how Princess Astrid attacked Hiccup, right?"

"Of course not!" Ruffnut exclaimed like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We're talking about something more important. The missing titles of Hiccup!"

"Yeah, they left out the most interesting ones," Tuffnut supplied.

Now Fishlegs looked even more confused. He took out a document from his pocket, the marriage contract draft that Hiccup had prepared in case he won. He then checked the titles written under Hiccup's name. " _Uh_ —I think that was the complete list, guys. His official titles are written here." He waved the draft in front of them.

"Give me that," Tuffnut breathed as he snatched it from Fishleg's hand. He gave a once-over and took out a pencil from his pocket. He promptly began scribbling on the draft then. "See, they totally forgot to add this title—"

"—and this," Ruffnut chimed in, snatching the pencil away from Tuffnut.

"Oh, don't forget to add this as well."

"And don't forget that one title…"

Both of them scribbled some more on the draft, and after a few minutes, the twins looked at each other and gave each other a high five. They faced Fishlegs to return the document, all merry smiles and pleased demeanor. Fishlegs took the document to read Hiccup's complete list of titles.

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King Hiccup Horrendous of House Haddock, Third of his name, Lord Protector and King of the Berkian Isles, the Pride of Berk, the Dragon Conqueror, the Master of Dragons, Envoy to the Continental Mainland, Patron of the Seasons, Confidante of the Crownlands and Kith to the Alliance of the Moon Kingdoms, Brother to Dagur, the Boss Man, the Capital H, Sir Talks-A-Lot, the Princess of Outpost and Tyrant, and Everyone's Baby Daddy of the Isle of the Dragon's Edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Long-arse chapter notes:**  
>  **[1]** I have not watched any other HTTYD franchise other than the movies (yes, I've been living under a rock—loads of textbooks and papers, thank you), so if I don't get their characterization right from the TV series/books, my apologies. Though I admit that I have researched (read) the different characters from the TV series and plotlines of these characters, so my characterization of them is an interpretation of what I've read and what YouTube can provide me with their clips. Also, I'm not really a sarcastic or a sassy person, so I will admit that I did have difficulties in writing Hiccup's character. I'm pretty sure you've noticed that. Sorry.  
>  **[2] House Mottos and Sigils review!**
> 
>   * **House Haddock of Berk:** red dragon on a black field (think Hiccup's crest in HTTYD 2, which I think fits so snugly with the Targaryen sigil) | " _A King protects his own_ " (based on Stoick's quote of 'A Chief protects his own' from HTTYD 2)
>   * **House Valheim** (Valka's House—totally made the House name up) **of Berk:** white dragon on a black field | " _Be the soul of the dragon_ " ('[You have] A heart of a Chief and the soul of a dragon' would really be a good motto for Hiccup, but I can't see House Haddock having this motto)
>   * **House Hofferson of Reiynor:** golden valkyrie with an axe on a blue field | " _Nothing less than perfection_ " (because I've read in a lot of fics how Astrid can be a perfectionist at times)
>   * **House Oswaldson** (I am totally making up House names from this point onward because research can't seem to show character family names T_T) **of the Berserker Islands:** black skrill on a grey field (Berserker crest per reasearch) | " _When in doubt, take it out_ " (Dagur quote, per research)
>   * **House Traison of the Isles of the Outcasts:** red viking helmet on a field of gold | " _Treachery is nobility when aimed against tyranny_ " (can't seem to find a good enough Alvin quote to justify his treachery, so let's go with an internet quote instead)
>   * **House Highborn of Caldera Cay:** red eruptudon on a white field | " _May Dragons bless the Queen_ " (because dragon worship) 
> 

> 
> **Bonus houses!**
> 
>   * **House Der Soone of Corona:** sun on a violet field | " _See the light_ "
>   * **House DunBroch of DunBroch:** green sword with interwoven rings on a black field | " _Change the fate torn by pride_ "
>   * **House Arun of Arendelle:** white crocus on a blue background | " _Beware the frozen heart_ "
>   * **House Overland of Lunaris:** white snowflake in a crescent moon on a blue field | " _Believe in the moon_ "
> 

> 
> **[3]** The line used by Astrid against Dagur and Heather is an alteration of a poem made by Lady-in-Waiting Yushi Naishin-no-ke no Kii (11th century Japan): "While some dodge the famous waves of Takashi shore to avoid getting wet, I deflect your artful words to keep my sleeves dry". This means: While some dodge the [much-talked rumors of you] to [not let one's sleeves be wet by tears], I deflect your [playboy-ness] to keep my sleeves dry [i.e. not give my heart to you].
> 
> Similarly, Astrid's line: "While some dodge the famous flames of the Red Death to avoid being set on fire, I deflect your impish words to keep my armor unscathed" means: While some dodge the [deranged infamy] to [not let my armor be burned], I deflect your [craziness] to keep my armor unscathed [i.e. not yield to you]. So to answer Heather's question, it's a no.
> 
> **[4]** Astrid's princess lessons were taken from (Barbie's) the Princess and the Pauper and (Brave's) princess lessons from Queen Elinor.
> 
> Thank you for reaching the end of the page! :)


	3. Act Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
> Warning: Really long, boring and oftentimes unrealistic chapter. Errors abound (kindly note that all errors are intended even those which are not). And really, I'm so sorry that this isn't the masterpiece that was last chapter.
> 
> I know that a lot of you have been waiting so long for this. I'm sorry. Here's a long-arse chapter to (hopefully!) make up for my absence. The rest of my excuses down below.
> 
> Many hugs to my Beta, Introvert-Dragon who gave me an in-depth review even though only short comments were promised. X)

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**Chapter Playlist:**

Nemesis of the Ruined Kingdom (Rin and Len Kagamine)  
Erza's Theme (Fairy Tail OST)  
This Time for Sure! (HTTYD OST)  


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The first time he murmured his conditions for the wager, he knew that she thought she heard it wrong.

He stiffened in anticipation at what her response would be, dreading the blankness of her stare and the silence that came with it. If he was to predict her next move, it would most likely be a punch to his gut or a kick to his shins. Or even perhaps a jab of her axe.

But then out of the blue, she did something rather unexpected.

She laughed.

Her voice was surprisingly pleasant, a mellifluous tone that was a stark contrast to the chaos and fire that surrounded them. She lifted a hand to daintily to cover her mouth, a gesture so delicate and refined and out of place in the battlefield it should be made illegal. She faced him with incredulous mirth in her eyes.

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"Dream on, commoner. I'm not one to get married. And even if I must, be warned that I would do everything in my power to unleash hell on anyone who dares court me. Although I must admit, I am not in a position to choose my betrothed. And bear in mind that I'll not marry anyone who can't defeat me in battle.

"Does this mean that you're not accepting the wager?"

"It's not exactly that I am refusing your bet, it's just that even if I do accept it, you must know that marrying me is not something that should be taken lightly. There are certain… _standards_ before a Hofferson like me can accept anyone's proposal of marriage."

"So it's a no."

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Her stare was carefully blank, all traces of her previous glee gone. Though her face was devoid of any emotion, he knew that she was thinking, trying to look for words that would better explain her position.

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"If you wish to be my husband, then you must know that you have to be someone capable enough to protect my Kingdom."

"You know, you could just say 'no' to the wager instead of spouting these flowery words—"

"—it's not exactly a 'no'—"

"—it's not exactly a 'yes' either. It's a 'yes, but there's a catch,' so it's eventually still a 'no,' isn't it?"

"If you put that way—"

"—It has something to do with me, isn't it? I'm too weak for you and I look like a talking fishbone. You just can't handle all of… _this_."

"This has nothing to do with your circumstances, commoner. I care not who you are or what you do. If you have the ability to protect my people, then I will defy my House and marry you. But you don't."

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A sigh escaped from her mouth as she paused in quiet contemplation, her beautiful eyes surveying the war around them. She continued—

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"Look, the entire Archipelago is in a mess. We're losing everyone around us. You can be losing your family, your countrymen and maybe even your best friends."

"Thank you, for summing that up."

"I'm doing my best to stop it. So you—what are you going to do about it?"

"Eh, probably something stupid."

"Good. But that's not good can do better, can you not? Neither your birth nor your circumstance will determine your ultimate station in this life. You can do something regardless of your position."

"Fine. Then maybe I'll do something crazy."

She smiled as her eyes landed on him again, and he could not help but be mesmerized when she urged her horse to move forward so that she could tower over him and further declare—

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"If you want to rise to nobility, then prove your worth to them. If you want to live alongside dragons, then unravel them. If you want to become my husband—"

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—there was fire in her eyes, a burning flame that urged him on, daring him, _challenging_ him—

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"—then rise to the occasion and defeat me in battle."

* * *

**ON RINGS AND KINGS AND FANCY HOUSE MOTTOS**

A C T T H R E E

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The afternoon sun was hot and stifling in Reiynor, though the breeze was cool enough to remind Hiccup that he was still in one of the kingdoms in the Wilderwest.

The crowd was deafening, the cheers and screams of the spectators for the incoming battle drowning out the murmurs and conversations of the Princess' suitors with their respective advisors. They were arranged on one side of the fighting pit and seated nearest to the ledge overlooking the pit for the best viewing pleasure. Tents were placed up for each party, with a champion housed underneath each tent surrounded by his most trusted entourage and advisors.

King Yngvild was most attentive of him, mortified as the King was with Princess Astrid's earlier misconduct. The King of Reiynor ensured that Hiccup was given the best view out of all the suitors and insisted that he be given the best seat available. Servants tended to his wounds swiftly, and he was assured that his friends were all taken care of in the infirmary. The King even allowed Toothless to stay with him!

On all sides, the world continued on—from the spectators screaming in the fighting pit, to his own Berkian party behind him, to his mother beside him fussing over his injuries—minimal as they were—and to his godfather on his other side, Lord Gobber of House Belch, his most trusted advisor, who was absentmindedly readjusting the hook that had replaced his severed hand. Toothless was nudging Hiccup's metal leg to snap him out of his sudden indifference to the world around him.

Because despite the ruckus around him, he remained motionless in his seat, completely consumed by her eyes that was staring him down from the center of the fighting pit.

Princess Astrid was giving him the most intense death glare he's ever had the pleasure of experiencing, and though he had been captivated by the beautiful hues of her eyes, the killing intent present in that glare was nevertheless disconcerting.

"I cannae believe you didnae withdraw your intention of courtship," Gobber murmured, snapping Hiccup out of his thoughts. He tore his gaze away from her stare, effectively extinguishing whatever onerous hypnosis was happening, to look at his mentor.

Valka glanced sideways at her son.

"I have my own reasons," Hiccup replied, instinctively reaching for the ring dangling from his neck, hidden underneath his clothes. "And while my plan did include having my ass kicked, I must admit that I was not expecting for the ass-kicking to happen so early."

"Oh puh-lease," a voice wafted from behind them, and Hiccup, Valka and Gobber looked back to see Ruffnut, Fishlegs and Tuffnut setting themselves down on the seats behind Hiccup, having moved from their original seats on the Berkian side to be closer to him. Ruffnut continued, "Come on, H. You've tamed a dragon, faced two god-tier beasts, and participated in two international wars. Not to mention your clashes with King Dagur, King Alvin and all those other fodders. There's no way you're gonna lose!"

"But he's facing _the_ Princess Astrid of House Hofferson," Fishlegs mumbled beside her, brows furrowed. "Jewel of the Rainlands? Beloved of Tyr? She's practically a revered priestess figure for Odin and arguably the most infamous of all shieldmaidens in the entire Barbaric Archipelago. That's basically plus five charisma and plus ten times two queen potential! She's not called _the fearless_ for nothing, you know. Even Lord Throk with his strength of five and vitality of ten would be no match for her."

"And what toothpick cannot match the wrath of the Princess who threatened to emasculate him?" Hiccup murmured in mock confidence, peering down to scratch his dragon's head which was now sprawled upon his lap. Toothless nudged his hand with his snout and gave a groan of gratitude. Hiccup managed to form a small smile and paused, eyes traveling back to the center of the fighting pit where the Princess was now facing Lord Throk. The fight had not yet started due to a short orientation that was still being given to the two participants, and the Princess' impatience was showing, with the tension in her grip and the hardness of her jaw.

He wondered if she was all right.

Hiccup shook his head. "My situation matters not at the moment. I just hope that the disposition of the Princess has improved and that whatever has happened will not affect her performance."

"The Princess almost… _murdered_ you," Fishlegs drawled out almost disbelievingly. "And yet the only thing you can think of is her welfare? You're more foolish than the Twins give you credit for!"

Hiccup turned his head slightly and opened his mouth, about to answer Fishlegs, but his mother interrupted as well—

"If I may be so bold to ask, Son," the Queen Dowager said pensively, turning to him, "why did you not withdraw the courtship? Surely with your influence in the Barbaric Archipelago, there would be a maiden more inclined to be your bride."

Hiccup looked towards Princess Astrid again, immobile but clearly displeased when the presenter further recapped the rules of the Ceremony for a second time. He thought of the time when they first met, of her tenacity and her fearlessness, of their bet and her challenge. "I know that the Princess is brazen and violent at times—"

"—an understatement, surely, H," Tuffnut commented from above, to which Ruffnut added "—more like _always_ violent—"

"—but she is extremely loyal to her people and exceptionally fearless in battle," Hiccup continued, ignoring his friends. "She is also assertive in her beliefs and firm in her decisions, all characteristics which I believe are important for a Queen who is to rule by my side."

"Certainly, there must be more?" the Queen Dowager prodded. "Loyalty and valiance, confidence and devotion—Hiccup, both Princess Heather and Princess Camicazi, two of your closest friends who are both eligible to be your queen, possess these values. What makes Princess Astrid stand out?"

Hiccup blinked, the words of Lord Throk in the background— _"I am here to lift you off your feet"_ —distracting him. His mother's point, though, urged the gears in his head to turn.

 _"Um"_ —the presenter continued on in the middle of the pit in reply to Lord Throk—"don't you mean, sweep her off her feet?"

"Uh… He has been in love with her for ten years," Fishlegs muttered matter-of-factly, shrugging. "Everyone knows that."

"Yeah, wouldn't stop talking about her when he's drunk," Tuffnut added, joining in Fishleg's taunting. "Do you remember that time when you drank mead instead of that healing tonic?"

"And do you remember that cabinet of unsent letters you wrote for her in one sitting?" Ruffnut jeered.

"Away wit' ye, ye muttonheads!" Lord Gobber admonished the three of them, ignoring the spectacle in the fighting pit. "'Tis the King of Berk yer all talking to!"

"I do _not_ have a cabinet full of letters for her!" Hiccup cried in embarrassment.

 _"No"_ —Lord Throk's reply echoed in the backdrop of their conversation— _"I will lift her from her feet, put her over my shoulder"_ —

"Of course not!" Tuffnut confirmed and loudly whispered for everyone to hear, "It was a small shrine!"

"Ye! How many times do I have to tell ye that ye should treat Hiccup with respect?" Gobber admonished Tuffnut once again, though Tuffnut didn't seemed to be discouraged in the least, snickering with his sister.

— _"and return with her to my island where she will live out her days as my trustworthy wife"—_

Gobber turned to Hiccup. "And ye! Hiccup! Yer mother has a point, ye know. Ye can have any girl in the Barbaric archipelago—except for that Bogwater girl, too sneaky for yer liking—but ye just have to take on Princess Astrid? The most ferocious of 'em all?"

Hiccup could barely make out the cheers of the crowd when the presenter announced the start of the fight, and could hardly hear Lord Throk's declaration of "— _losing the dukedom has made the retrieval of the bride much more of a struggle but I will still carry you_ —" since he was too distracted with defending his affections for the Princess.

"She's cold and abrasive most of the time, but if you just look, underneath her cold and warrior persona, she's vulnerable and soft—"

"—Princess Astrid has just knocked out Lord Throk in just one punch!"

Silence.

Hiccup whipped his head towards the arena in the next heartbeat—almost gaping—just in time for the crowd to roar in delight at the sight of Lord Throk now on the ground, limp and immobile, the consciousness of him knocked out from his body. Princess Astrid stood triumphantly above him, unscathed and smug.

His mother and his uncle chuckled slightly on either side of him. Even Toothless looked on in amusement.

"… Ye were saying, laddie?"

Hiccup found himself struggling for words to answer him, his throat suddenly growing dry. "Th—That was just her… being a warrior." That was an understatement. That was her being a _savage_ warrior.

"That was a plus five attack and a minus ten charisma," Fishlegs elaborated.

"Uh—we're _Vikings_ ," Ruffnut pointed out. "That knockout makes a plus fifteen queen potential—"

"—but minus fifteen feminine vulnerability because if that wasn't the opposite of soft and vulnerable, I don't know what is," Tuffnut supplied matter-of-factly."And that's a lot, coming from me."

"Well, she just has a different way of expressing her vulnerability," Hiccup managed to say while Lord Throk was being carried out of the arena and the next suitor was ushered in. He was not sure if he was trying to convince them or he was trying to convince himself. "Besides, you can't expect her to be soft and vulnerable at a time like this. She's supposed to be fighting for her future!"

"The next match is against Prince Thuggory of Meathead Islands!" The presenter announced just as the Prince ambled in and Fishlegs whispered an "arm strength: eight; speed: five."

"Would you please stop that?" Hiccup whispered in protest back at Fishlegs. He cast his eyes to his mother.

"Give her a bit of time, and you'll see that she'll be more forgiving on her next op—"

"— _another knockout from the princess!_ "

"—ponent."

Damn it.

He didn't even get to finish his sentence, and she had proven him wrong once again.

The crowd went crazy around him, standing up from their seats to cheer the Princess on, chanting her name and seemingly forgetting her earlier impropriety. The Princess' spirits seemed to have lifted somewhat; there was gratification and pride on her visage, but there was still a hint of anger and vexation underneath her display of fierceness. It seemed that whatever bothered the Princess, she took it out on the nearest person available.

Alarm gripped Hiccup's chest—two knockouts from the warrior was surely enough validation of her prowess. And yet she looked dissatisfied—thirsty for more and unstoppable in her conquest.

She looked up towards the crowds, waving her axe and coaxing them to chant for her more, a pleased smile on her lips. Beautiful yet brutal, wild yet still breathtaking, she leisurely walked around the fighting pit like the champion that she was. Perhaps she was some Valkyrie indeed; if someone told him that she was the flesh of Frejya on Midgard, he'd had believed them, too.

"Listen, Hiccup," Gobber murmured beside him, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I was overhearing some of the men just now and, well, some of them are wondering what it is yer up to here—not me of course, I know yer always the man with the plan—but some, not me, are wondering if you have in fact a plan at all, and… what it might be?"

"Get in the ring and get killed," Hiccup answered truthfully.

"Right."

"Oh, c'mon, H," Ruffnut tried. "Don't lose hope yet! What does the Beloved of Tyr have against the Pride of Berk, the Dragon Conqueror and the Baby Daddy of the Isle of the Edge?"

Hiccup almost blanched at the absurdity of the title, momentarily forgetting the task at hand. "Who— _What_ —" he sputtered. He turned to berate Ruffnut, scandalized that someone should ever call him _that_ , but his actions were cut short when the presenter continued with the lineup.

"Princess Astrid won this round of the Ceremony! We shall now send in the next one—"

"— _Five_ ," the Princess cut off the announcer.

The presenter looked confused, gesturing for the crowd to lessen the noise so that he can hear better and ensure that he was hearing right. "… Your Highness?"

"Send in the next five," Princess Astrid repeated nonchalantly, raising her palm to confirm her desired number of opponents. "I want to get this over with."

The announcer froze in stunned silence, as did the entire crowd. Questioning looks were exchanged as whispers of disbelief bloomed among the spectators. Hiccup shifted in his chair to take a glance at King Yngvild, who did not seem surprised at his daughter's request. The announcer turned to the King as well, waiting for his approval. Surely the King would rethink his daughter's bidding!

When the King finally nodded his head, there were gasps of surprise and shouts of excitement. A five-versus-one battle? A victor would be decided soon, truly—for what chances did a lone Princess have against five Vikings? And while she was indeed a formidable opponent, her opponents were ferocious warriors as well, and it would need more than a fist to knock them out.

Hiccup wasn't sure if he was nervous for the Princess or for himself when the Viking warriors, all dressed in daunting armor and sporting determined faces, came out and almost immediately surrounded the Princess. Some of the warriors were people he knew: King Dagur whose fighting style was both crazed and unpredictable, and Lord Savage who was tricky and whose forte were sneak attacks.

Hiccup breathed out audibly. How on Midgard was she supposed to face all of them at once?

The Princess seemed to be unbothered by their number, though, blue eyes narrowing to inspect each of them. She grabbed a nearby shield that was mounted on one of the pillars and twirled her axe around to test them in her hand. Once she was satisfied, she positioned her stance into a fighting position.

As soon as the announcer signaled the start of the fight, her suitors wasted no time in attacking her at the same time, brandishing swords and spears. She immediately reacted, moving out of their way and raising her shield to block their weapons. Surprisingly, she was able to fend them off at the same time.

Her skills were evident in her movement; every swing of her axe was a testament to her physical power. However, her footwork was less graceful than he had expected, and her attacks were sloppy now when she was emotionally distracted—a fierce display of combat stemming from raw rage, albeit less controlled and more reckless. Her wrath was evident in every overpowering strike that she made, designed to topple her opponents in as few blows as possible with the ferocity of her assaults. In addition, the spacing between her opponents was to her advantage: it made her easily take out opponents as Lord Savage and Dagur couldn't freely attack. Not that Vikings like them helped each other out often.

When it was down to only Lord Savage and King Dagur, her movements became less ferocious. She was on the defensive now, and Hiccup could see that she was using the opportunity to study their strengths, speed and attack patterns. After a few moments, she shifted on one foot, breaking the pattern and using that instance to focus her attacks on Lord Savage: she was going to finish Lord Savage first, most likely to prevent an ambush attack.

Her attacks increased in speed and power, both to drive Lord Savage to one corner and to leave behind King Dagur. With a quick strike, Princess Astrid sent Lord Savage's sword twirling from his hand and drove his body to the corner with her shield without giving him a time to react. The impact rendered the noble weak, but still conscious. She slammed down his body for good measure, making sure that he was already unconscious before turning to King Dagur.

In typical Dagur fashion, the Berserker king charged with brute force and harsh attacks to take down the Princess. Learning from her display earlier, he drove her to the wall of the arena, earning encouraging shouts from the rest of the Berserkers. The Princess tried to catch all of his strikes with her shield, every impact rattling her stance. This was not surprising, considering that the King was a bit more than twice her size. In a particularly strong blow, Princess Astrid grit her teeth and let herself fall back; due to the strength of his strike, the King fell forward as well, falling with her in the process. As soon as the King fell, the Princess reacted swiftly, regaining her standing position even before the King could react. She kicked his sword from his hand and hammered down her shield to his head, knocking him out.

And with that, the third round of the Ceremony was over.

A profusion of rowdy roars erupted from the entire arena, praising the Princess and her abilities. While almost everyone cheered on for the Princess' victory—except for the tribes of the defeated nobles—everyone on their side of the crowd, too, were silent at the Princess' show of fighting abilities. While it was entertaining and jaw-dropping, it was also a rather clear indicator of the gap of the combat skills between Hiccup and the Princess.

"Chances of survival are dwindling into single digits now..." Fishlegs muttered quietly when their camp continued to stay silent.

"Naw," Ruffnut snapped out of her stupor to support her king. "I'm still betting on H to win."

Everyone didn't seem to share her sentiment, though. Even Toothless who was usually supportive of him was startled to see the Princess' capabilities.

The cheers continued for a few minutes until the announcer calmed down the crowd to focus on the next people in the line up. "The Princess has once again proven her might on the battlefield," he murmured as soon as the unconscious bodies were dragged out of the arena. "We will now be sending in the next five!"

 _"Ten!"_ Princess Astrid announced, contradicting him. That stunned the crowd again, judging from the immediate silence of the audience. "Send in the next ten," the Princess repeated.

Applause and cheers greeted the King as soon as he nodded his head in approval.

"Da-da-da. I'm dead," Hiccup announced in defeat, to which Toothless rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to prepare your funeral pyre," Ruffnut offered, all thoughts of positivity earlier gone.

"Thank you so much for the thoughtfulness, Ruff," Hiccup sighed. "So, I'm going to end up skewered and murdered—On my own volition—in front of the entire Barbaric Archipelago. By the greatest living Valkyrie imaginable. Pain. _Love it_."

"Intelligence just went up five points," Fishlegs mumbled.

"All right, so I _might_ need some help," Hiccup declared in exasperation. "Any thoughts?"

"You were wise to seek help from the world's deadliest weapon," Tuffnut declared, placing his hands on either of Hiccup's shoulders, "me."

"Some help that does not involve blowing things up," Hiccup replied, unable to hide his suspicion.

Ruffnut reminded him, "I'm already preparing your funeral pyre–"

"—I said no blowing up!"

"Setting your body on fire isn't blowing up—"

"—you are so much help, guys," Hiccup groaned in frustration, deflating in his seat while Toothless laughed at him. "Thank you very much."

"Son," Valka murmured, grabbing his hand to comfort him. Hiccup turned to her, seeing the confidence in her eyes that somehow lightened his feelings. "You've faced the Red Death and Drago Bludvist. You're more capable of great things than you think you are."

"Thanks mom," Hiccup replied and smiled weakly. "But Toothless was with me during all those times, if you haven't remembered."

"In a society where Vikings were honored when killing a dragon, you were the one who went through impossible odds. Not slaughtering a dragon? Even befriending one? Who would have thought? By the grace of Odin, you did something that even I couldn't do: you somehow reconciled two opposing factions that have been at war for over a hundred years. If you have done that, I doubt even Loki can thwart the endeavors you so passionately pursue."

Valka cradled his face between her hands, urging him to look at her. "You can defeat the Princess. You can do this."

Gobber slapped him on the back in jest, loosening him up. "You've survived many wars; what's one girl got on ye, laddie?"

"Think, Hiccup!" Tuffnut chimed in. "Use the brains Thor gave you and disregard how he gave you puny stick-like biceps."

Everyone's mood lightened immediately, the teasing and joking coming back. In his mind, though, the cogs were turning.

"There must be something," Hiccup muttered, mostly to himself. "Everyone has a weakness. Even the strongest of beasts has a weak spot." He'd need a game plan. Not that it would serve him much; he was good with plans, but the cosmos had ways of destroying them. He usually would just wing it when faced with trouble, but it didn't hurt if he knew what his available options were.

What would the others do, though?

The Twins would definitely use explosives, but anything exploding would be too dangerous. Though he was not discounting it should push came to shove…

He didn't even know what Eret would do. Snotlout would only most likely show off was biceps. Or write a book. But during the battle with the Red Death— _analyzing_ —Fishlegs!

"Legs, break it down," Hiccup piped up.

"What?" Fishlegs gasped, scandalized. "As in check her out?"

"Wha— _no_!" Hiccup sputtered in equal shock. "How dare you! _No_! I just wanted a breakdown of her strengths and weaknesses!"

"All right, all right, sheesh," Fishlegs calmed. Everyone turned towards the fighting pit where the next fight was about to start. The Princess' opponents surrounded her just as the others did in the earlier round, readying to attack.

"Well, there are her obvious strengths," Fishlegs started as they concentrated on the fight. "She has been trained since she was a small child to handle close-range combat and how to use different weapons."

The Princess ducked an incoming punch that was aimed at her, swerving to avoid the fist and get closer to the first attacker. She hit him with the handle of her axe and hammered him down with her shield, ensuring that her opponent stayed down. "She has a small frame, so pinning her down while she's moving would be more difficult," Fishlegs further noted as she rolled away when another opponent struck his sword. "And since she's small, flexible and wears light armor, she can be fast and nimble on the ground."

The Princess managed to bring down two more opponents with her axe, leaving six more surrounding her. Her movements seemed a bit slower, though, something that didn't escape either Fishlegs or Hiccup. "One of her weaknesses may be that she has fought longer than you for today; that's definitely taking a toll on her physique. And even if she has remarkable endurance, we can't expect her to last too long when she's fighting too many opponents at once."

Fishlegs paused when Princess Astrid somehow took down two opponents at the same time, but at the risk of giving another attacker the chance to hit her; and when his mace hit her armor and she doubled over, the crowd gasped at the first major blow to the Princess thus far. "Another flaw," Fishlegs muttered, though Hiccup was too distracted as he stood up in alarm. "The armor is light but at the cost of being thinner. The structural integrity of the armor may be compromised and may not be good enough of a defense system."

Princess Astrid struck his jaw with her infamous Death Punch in retaliation, the anger and irritation in her eyes blazing. That seemed to have pissed her off, and in the strength of her uppercut, her opponent fell to the ground in a knockout.

"And before I forgot," Fishlegs added when Hiccup sat back down in relief, "Her fists are made for punching. Steer clear of both. Not that you didn't know that already."

The remaining four opponents attacked the Princess at the same time, their physiques almost covering the Princess' frame from view. Everyone stood up to get a better view of the situation, murmurs of varying reactions erupting everywhere. Hiccup looked on in concern at the development, ignoring Fishlegs' analysis for a moment, and even Toothless almost hovered to see the ongoing fight.

It seemed as if at least two of them were overpowering her, and the Princess was struggling to fight them off. Dirt and filth covered them as the Princess dove into the ground to evade their attacks, and the contenders followed suit to keep up with their movements. One of them was able to pin her ankle to the ground as she tried to tumble away, and another delivered a blow which she staved off with her shield. The other two joined in, and the Princess strained to defend herself from their attacks. Her figure succumbed to the onslaught, slowly disappearing from view.

Hiccup's heart sank in his chest as he saw the brawl, transfixed on the fight.

This was it. This was going to be the end of the Ceremony.

Just when the crowd thought that the Princess would be overpowered and finally defeated, one of the attackers was thrown off from the pile with the Princess' fist emerging from the combat puddle, an uppercut delivered. She drove the rest of them with the help of her shield, the speed and intensity of her drive sending the dust and soil of the ground to dance around them. The others fought back, some of them using the soil in an attempt to block her vision, resulting to a screen of filth and soil to cover their fight.

The Princess was undeterred, however, sending her shield flying to the opponent that she had given an undercut earlier; the contender plopped to the ground, knocked out. She immediately retrieved her shield to throw it again to the next nearest foe, knocking him out again. The last two she defeated with several swings of her axe, drawing some blood and bones in the process. Both of them fell to the ground after she delivered the final blow.

Princess Astrid stood tall against the receding dust, bruised and bloodied with dirt and filth all over her armor, but victorious all the same. The crowd had completely fallen for her as soon as they saw her emerge from the dirt, chanting her name like a revered goddess.

Which she maybe was.

The presenter announced a short break in which the Princess could rest and wash up while a few exhibition fights between different kingdoms would commence. Hiccup's eyes followed her figure from the stands, watching as she glided from the arena to a resting place below the fighting pits. Just as she was about to disappear, she caught him staring, and his breath hitched. She appropriately responded with another death glare, and even in her soiled condition—and even in her obvious displeasure of him—she looked so heavenly.

So much so that he could not find it in his heart to overlook the chance to win her.

(He wondered if she has already figured out who he was.)

One of her attendants broke the spell as she urged the Princess on to her resting area, inquiring as to the Princess' injuries. "They merit no anxiety, truly," Princess Astrid assured her attendant, tearing her eyes away from him and moving away from the view of the crowd. "Besides, it's only fun when you get a scar out of it. I just mistimed my somersault dive. It was sloppy and it threw off my reverse tumble."

Hiccup watched as she disappeared, suddenly realizing a potentially alarming situation which he should have discerned sooner.

"Hiccup," Fishlegs breathed behind him as they sat down, and he knew exactly what Fishlegs was going to say. "Princess Astrid has twenty-eight suitors. If she asks for the next ten contenders and she wins, you're going to be left as the last person to fight her. Alone."

And when the Princess shouted right after reappearing in the arena clothed like brand new like the fighting before didn't happen— _"Send in the next ten!"_ —he knew that he was doomed.

"Well, then," Hiccup started as the fifth round began, "what do you think my strengths and weaknesses are, Legs?"

"I can think of a lot of weaknesses," Fishlegs offered. "You're a fishbone with noodle arms for one." Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. "You also tend to negotiate first before fighting, which would definitely not work with the Princess. You're sometimes insecure and desperate, so there are times when you let your own insecurities cloud your judgment which eventually leads to chaos and disaster. Not to mention that you are an awful winner, letting the glory get to your heads so you become as arrogant and unpleasant as Snotlout."

"Thank you for summing that up," Hiccup disrupted in irritation, closing his mouth to recover from his initial shock. "Also, I said, 'tell me my weaknesses' not 'roast me'."

"Fish was right, though," Tuffnut nodded.

"Not helping," Hiccup deadpanned.

"Fine, I'll do a shorter version," Fishlegs offered. "Arm strength: three, speed: five, chances of surviving an angry princess: roughly eight percent. Chances of surviving the scorn of a goddess: below two percent."

The next round had already started before they realized it, Hiccup pondering on his chances. Toothless, sensing his uneasiness, nudged his arm to comfort him. "Thanks, bud," he said sincerely, giving his best friend a small smile.

"If we talk about the two percent, though," Fishlegs said thoughtfully, "you might just have a chance at this. Physically speaking, apart from your noodle arms, the rest of your body is lean—"

"—I thought the roast fest was over?" Hiccup muttered miserably.

"—Which isn't a bad thing," Fishlegs continued. "I mean, the smaller the impact area, the lesser chances of being hit. It also makes you light and quick on your feet—or foot, rather—much like what Gobber taught us in dragon training against the Nadders. Also, you have an Intelligence of nine, so you have great problem-solving skills. Not to mention that you have a lot of things the rest of the Archipelago doesn't have."

Hiccup listened to him intently, ignoring the fight in front of them and the loud cheers from the crowd. At this moment, only Fishlegs' analysis mattered.

"For one, you have weapons that you made yourself," Fishlegs supplied.

"Which I wouldn't have made if not for Gobber's help," Hiccup said. "Though, I may also have asked for help from High King Nicholas for the newer weapons." Turning to Gobber, he added, "He looks forward to seeing you again, by the way."

"Still tinkering on his little toys, eh?"

"He says that your engineering skills have greatly helped in inspiring wonders in his young subjects," Hiccup mentioned. He'll have to arrange for a meeting with the leader of the Alliance of the Moon Kingdoms after this. _If_ he'd survive this.

"Moving on," Fishlegs continued, "You also have experience with battling people from the Mainlands. That's gotta count for something."

Hiccup snorted. "Why of course," he breathed, trying not to laugh. "Jack's 'Just Have Fun with This' technique and Rapunzel's Art of the Frying Pan will greatly help me in my battle with a goddess."

"You don't give your experience and instincts enough credit," Fishlegs thought out loud. "I mean, you have great plans and all, but based on my observation, you perform better when you're at the height of your emotions. When you let your principles lead your action, that's when you truly become a force to be reckoned with."

The fight lasted shorter than they had expected, with three of the participants yielding to the Princess' prowess. The attendant called for Hiccup from below, and he readied himself to stand up from his chair while his camp wished him luck.

Not one to be left behind when it came to grabbing attention, Toothless swiftly rose from the floor to spread his wings and gloat, resulting in a clearing in front of the Berkian Camp.

"No, no, Toothless," Hiccup whined, knowing what his dragon was implying. "You're not going out there with me. It's _my_ fight, all right?"

Toothless shrunk, pouting at his words like a dejected puppy.

"No, not gonna work on me," Hiccup scowled, arms crossed. The more he ignored him, though, the more Toothless wailed, and the more the crowd grew impatient.

"Fine," Hiccup finally snapped, and the dragon immediately stretched to accommodate him, all traces of previous moping gone. He sealed Inferno into his suit and ascended, settling himself on the saddle.

"Don't forget your shield!" Gobber called out hastily, offering the round shield with a dragon furnishing.

"Thanks, Gobber," Hiccup said as the shield was mounted on his arm.

Toothless spread his wings and flew, taking Hiccup with him to the skies as more than a hundred pairs of eyes looked on in awe. The dragon circled the arena once and lowered himself to hover on the ground so that Hiccup could somersault from his seat. Hiccup landed gracefully on the ground in front of the Princess before Toothless left to return to the Berkian side, earning claps from the audience. Princess Astrid was not impressed, though.

"From House Hofferson, presenting the Fearless, the Jewel of the Rainlands and Beloved of Tyr, Her Royal Highness Princess Astrid of Reiynor," the presenter announced as the crowd cheered, the Reiynor side chanting her name.

"And from House Haddock, presenting the Lord Protector and King of the Berkian Isles, the Pride of Berk, the Dragon Conqueror, the Master of Dragons and the Champion of the Kingdom of Berk, His Majesty King Hiccup of Berk!"

The Berkian camp erupted in shrieks and Toothless roared, though their efforts could not thwart Ruffnut's screams of "― _you forgot that he's a Drama King, too, muttonhead_!"

He would have slapped his palm to his face out of embarrassment, but he could not even move under the intense scrutiny of the Princess, who was lifting her chin and glaring daggers at him. An excited but inhibited murmur spread throughout the spectators as Hiccup faced the Princess, the duel of the year about to begin.

Hiccup released a breath when his eyes connected with hers, trying to compel his heart to pound more steadily. He was transfixed with her gaze, bound to the unbridled wrath of her glower. He had no plans of letting her overwhelm him, though, matching the fever of her glare with the unabashed resolution of his own. Pulling his retractable sword from its holster without igniting the flames, he twisted it once in his hand and set himself in an attacking stance while he held his shield up.

The crowd silenced just as they settled into their positions.

"Ready, your Majesty? Your Royal Highness?" the presenter asked. They both nodded without disconnecting eye contact, grips on their respective weapons ever tighter. "Duel commence!"

She advanced in on him in an instant, eyes blazing and axe aiming for his head. Hiccup dodged her blade and stepped away from her immediate proximity as she swung on him. She was determined not to lose him, though, blocking off his exit points with her blade, which Hiccup tried to block with his shield. As the Princess aimed her axe at him again, Hiccup ignited Inferno in his hand, brandishing flame and steel against her blade and wrath.

The Princess stepped back in alarm at the sight of a flaming sword, halting her offensive actions in favor of a defensive stance; she immediately covered her form with her shield and slowly circled Hiccup. Even some spectators gasped in awe at Hiccup's weapon, and a chatter of excitement flourished from the stands.

Hiccup caught a breather, though Princess Astrid's move to twirl her axe was a good indicator that the fight was far from over.

"It will take more than cheap tricks to bring me down," Princess Astrid gritted, her eyes glaring daggers at him while she cautiously circled his figure.

"I may have made them for free, but they're not cheap," he retaliated, moving his feet—foot—to match the Princess' footwork. "And it's not a trick either."

"As if I'd believe that someone like you can make something like _that_ ," the Princess spat. "I know not what sorcery you brought from the Mainlands with you, but such will not work on me."

"Blood Magic is no sorcery," Hiccup laughed, increasing the speed of his footwork when the Princess did the same. "It's a form of ritual magic, or so I'm told."

What would Fishlegs do in a situation like this? _Something smart_ , he'd say. _Think_.

The Princess tested the waters as she advanced in on him; when he hesitated to attack her, she moved to the offensive and raised her axe, at the same time, revealing her body to a window of opportunity. That was when he swiftly moved in and aimed—not for her axe—but at the handgrip of her shield. Catching her off guard, he aimed for the domed iron boss that protected her hand on the back of her shield. He missed, but the heat of the sword compelled her to release her grip on it—which was good enough for him.

If he was Fishlegs, he'd do the most logical thing to do: separate the _shield_ and the _maiden_.

Her shield fell to the ground abruptly, and the Princess had no time to fetch it again, what with the heat of his sword still pierced on her flesh. This only served to increase her anger, though, and the loss of her defense was compensated by the increased strength in her offense.

He was now open to attack as well, and the blade that sliced the skin of his arm proved this. _Steer clear of her fists_ , Fishlegs' voice resounded in his head. _And her axe_ , by extension, he added mentally.

Right.

He met the vigorous thrusts of her axe with his sword with great difficulty. Her strikes were weightier now that her anger had increased, and he was sure that she would not rest until he was defeated.

When the chance presented itself, he placed as much distance between him and the Princess, running away as far as he can from her. The crowd jeered at his act; what sort of Viking ran away from his enemy? But he was not the conventional Viking; his mind told him that he could not defeat the Princess on hand-to-hand combat. That means he'd have to look for a way to defeat her from a long distance.

She was on his heels in no time, though, almost covering the gap between them with her speed. She tried to reach him with her blade, but he dodged every strike with a technique he learned from Jack—combining free-running with self defense, feinting when she was about to strike and evading her attacks by rolling and jumping when she least expected it.

When she managed to pull one of his straps to force him back, he whirled around to brandish his shield at her, pushing a button so that the shield collapsed to its crossbow form. Taken aback, she released him immediately, and he took this opportunity to release the grappling line from the shield. The hook embedded itself on a column far from them, and when the cable retracted, it dragged Hiccup along with it, widening the gap between him and the Princess.

Hiccup landed ungracefully on the ground when his shield closed itself, and he promptly sheathed Inferno upon spotting a set of bow and arrows hung on one of the columns; that seemed to be the solution to his short-range problem. Looking back, he saw that she had thrown her axe away and was now reaching for a bow and arrow as well on the other end of the fighting pit, figuring out what he had intended to do.

Hiccup grabbed the set of arrows hurriedly, weaving a piece into his transformed crossbow-shield as fast as he can. He adjusted himself into a stance at the same time that the Princess drew an arrow from the other side of the arena. Ramblings and cheers erupted from the audience at the new development, though he did not pay them mind as he focused on perfecting his aim.

He'd have to hit her where it was critical, but not fatal. Better yet, he'd have to hit her where it mattered.

On the other side, the Princess did the same, aiming for him just as he was aiming for her. The crowd went wild, screaming and jeering and throwing Odin-knows-what. But as he hooked his fingers to draw his bowstring, it seemed as if the world went silent around them. Princess Astrid was directly in line with his vision, the tip of the arrow aimed directly at her figure. He released a breath and willed himself to remember Merida's trainings.

Mind your stance and your anchoring. Keep both of your eyes open. Aim directly at the target.

As if in slow motion, the Princess released her arrow.

_Focus, Hiccup!_

In a split second, Hiccup swerved to the side and released his own arrow while still aimed at her just like how Merida taught him before. In the next second, Hiccup caught the arrow whizzing near him with his free hand, whirling around to lessen the momentum of the arrow. He placed the arrow that he caught on the crossbow and released just as the Princess staved off the first arrow.

The second arrow flew. The Princess was caught off-guard with the simultaneous onslaught, frozen in place as the arrow pierced through her bowstring, severing the fiber. A smattering of gasps and claps erupted throughout the arena, and even the Princess looked flabbergasted at his display of skill.

Hiccup couldn't help but smirk at his accomplishment, which didn't go unnoticed by the Princess.

Princess Astrid's visage turned from focused rage to strained admiration as her narrowed eyes drifted back and forth from the severed bowstring to Hiccup. In a split second, however, the Princess recovered, running straight towards him.

"Fuck," Hiccup breathed, drawing another arrow in panic. He released the arrow in a hurry, pointing toward her legs and hoping to inflict a non-fatal flesh wound to slow her down. Nevertheless, she was able to knock out the arrow with her broken bow, still sprinting towards him. The next two arrows ended up the same and before he knew it, she was in front of him, brandishing her broken bow which he caught with his hybrid shield which was still in its crossbow form.

"Impressive," Princess Astrid seethed, her rage laced with strained praise. Her face was only a few inches from his, with only her bow and his shield in between them to keep their faces apart. He had to step back due to her force, and to keep a safe distance between them.

"I learned it from Merida," Hiccup replied distractedly, trying his best not to get lost in her eyes.

"So, it wasn't your own move, then," she sighed, somewhat in relief.

All of a sudden, she locked her bow in between the parting of his crossbow-shield to prevent it from closing. To Hiccup's horror, she grabbed the bowstring of his converted shield, yanking it away with one hand to destroy its crossbow functionality. Unsatisfied, she proceeded to grab one side of the crossbow, heaving it away. He tried to stop her by grabbing it back, but the strain was too much for the pivot of the shield, which received the brunt of the force. The shield broke before he knew it, the pieces falling to the ground with unceremonious thuds.

The Princess aimed for his head again, hoping to knock him out, but he was able to fend it off by swiftly releasing his flaming sword.

"You have to meet her," Hiccup told her, trying to get over his broken shield and using all his might to handle her force. The flames on his sword were burning the wood of her bow, but it did not deter her power one bit. "You'd have fun skewering suitors together."

"Not when all of mine have been defeated," the Princess ranted, trying to twist her bow to disarm him. Hiccup would not be fooled, though, and she found herself struggling to deprive him of his weapon. "I see that you learn fast."

"Yeah, I learned blocking from Eret," he replied in confidence. "And the running part from Jack."

"You should not address royalty so lightly!" she berated him, trying to place more force unto her weapon to overpower him. "They should always be addressed with proper honorifics. I'm sure Crown Princess Merida and Crown Prince Jackson will not tolerate such behavior."

Hiccup laughed gleefully before he could stop himself. "Crown _Prince_ and _Prin_ —both of them are going to have a field day!"

Princess Astrid kicked him on the shin, earning growls of pain from Hiccup. He was still able to hold on against her, though. "What about the sword and the shield, then?" she pressed.

"I told you, I made it," Hiccup said rather sharply. "Though I admit I've added a bit of a Gobber and High King Nicholas flair into it."

Princess Astrid smirked. "The arrow technique was more impressive."

"Just wait 'til you see this."

A kind of green gas suddenly erupted from the hilt of Hiccup's sword, resulting to the Princess freezing at the sight, surprised. "Hideous Zippleback gas," she muttered in a startle, realizing what the emerging smokescreen was made of. She retreated from his immediate vicinity, and Hiccup took advantage of her shock to collapse his flaming blade and prevent an inopportune blast. The crowd's curious whispers turned to full-blown gasps of wonder and cheers of admiration as Hiccup waved his pommel, the gaseous substance growing and covering a significant portion of the arena.

"Just what every barbaric princess needs," Hiccup announced behind his arm as the Princess coughed from somewhere in front of him. "One end coats the blade in Monstrous Nightmare saliva, and the other end sprays Hideous Zippleback gas. I use this to get the attention of hostile dragons, see. But another thing that it's good at is stupefying the enemy."

Hiccup carefully stalked the shadow of the retreating Princess, taking note of the sound of her coughs to follow her. A blast fueled by Hideous Zippleback gas was not particularly fatal in his experience, but he was not willing to test it on someone so important. He'd have to knock her out with the flash and without inflicting any major damage, including burns. Definitely not burns.

"As you know, Hiddeous Zippleback gas is highly flammable and very explosive," he explained when he pushed her to the ground; she gave an indignant cry and thrashed around, but with the smokescreen blocking her view and her breathing, she was not able to do much. Hideous zippleback gas would usually rise given a minute or two, though given the hotter climate in Reiynor, it would most likely take them a lesser time to rise. The Princess should be forced to stay on the ground should she receive the most minimal of damage.

Hiccup hurriedly sprinted away as soon as he saw the gas slowly lift, grabbing his sword and announcing―"All it takes is a spark and―"

He clicked the lighter on the pommel and threw it on to the rising Hideous Zippleback gas, igniting it. Hiccup ducked as the explosion swept that area of the arena, flames quickly consuming the gas and disappearing just as quickly as it had ignited. Smoke and dust replaced the flames, covering the entire arena underneath a screen of viridescent fumes.

"And that I learned from Ruff and Tuff!" Hiccup screamed when he was sure he was out of range of the blast radius, looking back to check on blow's destruction. Heaving long and hard, Hiccup collapsed on one corner of the fighting pit, surveying his laborious damage.

One column had been slightly destroyed, debris and chunks of concrete littered below it. One part of the arena was covered in pale, greenish smoke, obstructing any view they might have of the Princess.

His breathing began to stabilize, his heart slowly easing from the adrenaline. The audience seemed to share his stillness as silence dominated the crowds.

The smoke had started to settle down, but even then, the crowds seemed to be frozen in time, unmoving. It took the Vikings a few minutes to fully register what had just transpired, until they slowly realized the outcome of the battle.

A smattering of applause from the Berkian side started, led by the distinguished howls of Ruff and Tuff, then further developing into a full-fledged chanting of his name by the entire arena. Shouts and screams covered the entire fighting pit until he was sure that their cheering could be heard until the next island.

Hiccup breathed, smiling to himself as relief washed over him.

It was over now.

Just when he was about to lie on the ground, he was caught off guard when his very own sword came flying to him from the smoke, almost slashing him. The flames on the blade burned bright, alerting everyone that the fight was not yet done. The crowd immediately paused in the cheering at the sight of the blade, and cheers from the Reiynor side of the arena quickly overwhelmed the audience.

"You forget," Princess Astrid called out from the slowly dissipating smoke, "I am _the_ Princess Astrid of House Hofferson."

Hiccup's jaw dropped as the figure of the Princess emerged, bloodied and bruised with soil all over but still capable and―surprisingly―functioning. Her steps were heavy but purposeful, her figure frigid. She had somehow managed to retrieve her axe in the middle of that rubble, sporting the slightly burned weapon in her right hand.

Her eyes burned, however―blazing blue sapphires set against the soot and alabaster of her face. A new spirit seemed to be reignited in her now that she had survived all that explosion.

"We are nothing less than perfection," she reminded him gravely, raising her chin. "And I refuse to taint my House with any sort of failure. No matter what cheap tricks you have up your sleeve, King Hiccup, I shall not be defeated!"

Hiccup immediately scrambled back up to retrieve his sword, raising the weapon just in time to catch the blade of her axe with the steel and fire of his sword.

"How—How did you survive _that_?" he choked out once the shock had dissolved somewhat.

"Dragon training basics," the Princess leered. "The first thing you must know when fighting dragons is how to fend off fire. And in the absence of water? Earth is the next element you'd cover yourself with."

Well, _Loki's son of a half-troll_.

That explained the dirt and earth on her figure, then; she must have rolled in the soil as soon as she figured out what was going on. And in the rubble and smoke, she sought for her axe and his sword so that she could continue on with the fight.

She must truly be a goddess indeed.

"It was so much simpler in my head," Hiccup muttered to himself absentmindedly.

The Princess scoffed.

"If you think I'll go easy on you just because you're the great Dragon Master, then you are gravely mistaken," Princess Astrid hissed as her eyes burned in anger and defiance. She was so much stronger than Fishlegs had given her credit for, the strength in her assault enough to slowly drive him back.

She continued with her rant even when they were both struggling in the middle of their encounter, "All of you are the same to me: noblemen who want nothing more but strengthen their kingdoms and rise above everyone else. You're foolish if you think that you can be someone special to me."

"I care not," Hiccup shot back, trying to throw off her force by twisting her weapon just as she had earlier. "All I want to do is to be someone who is strong enough to protect everyone that I love."

With her grip on the axe destabilizing, he hastened to kick the handle of her weapon so that it would fly away from her hands. "And that encompasses everyone under my care: dragons and men alike, from edge to edge of the Archipelago," he continued, just as her axe was sent flying to the ground a few feet away from them, "and that includes _you_."

She faltered for a second in her steps—a moment's hesitation caused by his conviction—but she quickly regained her determination, charging at him in the next second with her fists and managing to evade his strikes at her. In a swift move, she kicked his sword away from his hand in return, disarming him in the same fashion that he had disarmed her earlier. Her boot propelled Inferno to the dust, and they were both left weaponless for the duration of the event. She proceeded to punch him, aiming for his chest and the rest of his upper body.

He noticed that something was rather unusual, though; although her jabs were still precise and violent, there seemed to be a reservation in her actions. Her movements were slower, her eyes less intense. Indeed, she seemed to be distracted, missing opportunities when she could have landed a solid fist on him that could have knocked him out.

He did not entirely comprehend her hesitation, but he did not question it either.

"Why?" she finally spat out as she managed to move past his defenses, landing a punch to his face that was surprisingly weak. "Why do you do it?"

"Why what?" Hiccup asked, blocking the next blow that she threw.

"Why do you endeavor yourself so?"

Her question took him aback; he didn't think she'd be so concerned of his reasons.

She was still throwing her fists and they were only getting stronger every second he didn't answer her. "We don't know each other, we've never even met. So why? Why are you pursuing me? Why—do—you—endeavor—to marry— _me_?!"

He held a fist that was thrown his way, the vigor in his grip enough to freeze her in surprise. Her words from ten years ago resounded in his head, the memories distant but resolutely enduring.

_(Good. But that's not good enough. You can do better, can you not? Neither your birth nor your circumstance will determine your ultimate position in this life.)_

"Because—"

With great effort, he twisted her arms to prevent her from attacking again. This did not dissuade her in the least, recovering her energy. She jabbed her other fist at him, which he also caught.

_(You can do something regardless of your condition.)_

"Because I'm stupid. And crazy. And you—and you—"

Gobber's words earlier also echoed in his head, forcing him to rethink his position on the matter while he was in the middle of the battlefield. _Ye can have any girl in the Barbaric archipelago—but ye just have to take on Princess Astrid? The most ferocious of 'em all?_

_(If you want to rise to nobility, then prove your worth to them.)_

Princess Astrid prepared to attack despite her hands being locked in his iron grip. She leapt into the air to meet their difference in height, and using her cranium as the area of impact, she struck his head.

He immediately let go of her, clutching the part of his head where she had struck.

_Why did you not withdraw the courtship?_

_(If you want to live alongside dragons, then unravel them.)_

Her headbutt seemed to knock Hiccup out of his stupor, though he could neither stop the memories from replaying in his head nor the inquiry of his mother from intertwining with his thought process. But he seemed to think clearer now, her words of conviction when they first met silencing the questions and doubts and reinforcing his decision to pursue his courtship of her.

"Because you inspire me to be better than I am and prove to everyone that they were wrong about dragons, about me—" He met her fist punch with his own with his new-found fire, and she was sent falling back to the ground. She immediately retaliated though, blocking his hands as she stood up from the dirt, taking the defensive.

He found his words.

"Because you pushed me to do the impossible. You pushed me to reconcile both dragons and Vikings—"

With a show of strength that only the Princess could do, she maneuvered their positions so that she could grab the leather strapped to his shoulder pad, and threw him over her shoulder so that Hiccup lay with his back on the ground. Swiftly, she settled on top of his abdomen, much like her assault on him earlier on stage. Both of her hands returned to his neck to strangle him. He would have been thankful that she was on top had it been in another situation, but he was too busy Trying Not To Die and Convincing Her That He Was Serious.

_Surely with your influence in the Barbaric Archipelago, there would be a maiden more inclined to be your bride._

He managed to pry her fingers away from his throat when her endurance slowly began to fade, her exhaustion in the preceding battles beginning to show. He pushed her to the side to reverse their positions, climbing on top of her torso and pinning her fists above her head. She gave him a heated glare, but he couldn't bring himself to conclude the fight, not when her pink lips looked so soft, so pink, so _inviting_.

_(If you want to become my husband—)_

Her eyes darted to his lips for a fraction of a second as well, the curiosity and confusion mingling with the anger in her eyes as she looked back up at him.

He lowered his head in reflex, confessing, "You were an important reason why I succeeded, even if you were just a memory. And for that I—I want to return the favor and protect the ones you love—

Confusion flashed in her eyes at his words, puzzled at what he was talking about.

"—by becoming your husband."

She snapped back to her warrior persona in the next instant, though, headbutting him as soon as his head got close enough. He released his grip on her, and she immediately pushed him back given the opportunity. Their limbs were intertwined in the struggle somehow, locking them both to the ground. They both wrestled, trying to overcome the other with what's left of their strength.

_(—then rise to the occasion and—)_

"So you should know," Hiccup persisted as they continued to battle for dominance, her fists banging on his chest, his right hand trying to lessen the damage inflicted by her jabs and his left reaching for Toothless' favorite _chew toy_ , "that I am willing to rise to the occasion and—"

Due to her fervor and persistence in bringing Hiccup down, the Princess somehow tore right through the leather and the fabric of his outfit, fisting what's left of the hide and the thread and the metal and the ring—

The _ring_.

Princess Astrid froze at the sight of the small band of gold and _mithril_ dangling from his neck, encrusted with small diamonds and decorated with a sparkling sapphire as its main stone. She yanked it as hard as she can from its chain, inspecting the object.

The ring that looked all too familiar.

She gasped as realization dawned on her—this was her father's betrothal gift to her mother. The same ring that her mother once gave to her. The same ring that she had given away.

She looked up at him gravely, her blue, blue, _blue_ eyes stupefied and disbelieving, shining in abject horror and cognizance.

The same ring that _she_ had given away to that commoner ten years ago.

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_"Should you be successful in your endeavors, come to the Kingdom of Reiynor and call for Princess Astrid of House Hofferson. If anyone doubts your intentions, show the ring and tell them that you've come to collect what is due to you."_

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_"So that's a promise then?"_

_"A promise?"_

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_"Promise me you'll marry me if—"_

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_(—defeat me in battle.)_

With the opportunity provided by her distraction, Hiccup thus declared "—I'll defeat you in battle."

And with the wisdom and skills bestowed unto him by Rapunzel, Lady of the Light and Maiden of Mood Swings, he used the last ounce of his strength to drive his arm and strike the side of her head with such a blow that would rival Rapunzel's Bang of the Frying Pan—with his very own prosthetic peg leg.

His metal foot instantly connected with her head, knocking her out of her consciousness.

Princess Astrid collapsed to the ground as soon as the blow struck her, letting go of the ring and falling to the ground with a soft thud of her frame.

Silence reigned the fighting pit once again, everybody cautious and guarded with the premature celebrations. The Princess remained still on the ground, however, even with Hiccup's prodding of her skin. It took more than a minute for everyone to realize what had just happened.

It wasn't until Toothless roared beside him, and the crowd went wild in the fighting pit, and the Princess' body was retrieved with a stretcher with the Royal Family of Reiynor surrounding her, and the announcer grabbed his hand and presented him that he had realized—

Odin's beard. He had _won_.

* * *

**E N D O F A C T T H R E E**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deeply apologize for leaving the fandom for so long. 2018 has been such a roller coaster for me: battling depression, resigning from my job as an external auditor, adjusting to a new job, a break-up, a family tragedy. So much has happened that I couldn't focus on writing, so I'm so so sorry for leaving you hanging since that last chapter.
> 
> Although I want to update as soon as I can, it's tax season where I'm from, so it might take a few months before I post anything again. I don't want to promise anything, but the one thing I can say is that I am not giving up on this fanfiction. Please just bear with me and my irregular update schedule. If you want to annoy me, though, you can ask anything on my tumblr, I'm usually more active there.
> 
> I also want to thank everyone who has bookmarked, kudo-ed and reviewed this story. You were the sunshine in my world when it was dark. :) I honestly don't mind if you don't review for this since it's been so long and I suppose you may have forgotten this. X) I just hope you enjoyed the chapter and that it made you look forward to HTTYD3!
> 
> Please have a great day ahead! :)


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